


Working With What We Got

by SomedayonBroadway



Category: Newsies!: the Musical - Fierstein/Menken
Genre: Angst, F/M, Family, Foster home, Friendship, Hurt/Comfort, Modern AU
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-12-27
Updated: 2019-08-16
Packaged: 2019-09-28 20:37:14
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 11
Words: 42,803
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17189978
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SomedayonBroadway/pseuds/SomedayonBroadway
Summary: What do you do when the only people you've ever known, the only people you've ever loved, your only family, is constantly at risk of being ripped away from you? When you're only holding onto them by a thread? You take what you've got, and you tighten your grasp.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Hello! 
> 
> I’m very excited to be posting this. This is my most favorited and followed story over on FanFiction.Net. 
> 
> I promise the writing gets better as it goes along, lol. But I really do love this story. 
> 
> Enjoy!

The screams and shouts were almost too much to handle. At least a dozen men and even a few woman were surrounding two others, cheering, calling out for one or the other to throw a punch or swipe a leg. All the others that sat inside sat in silence, in their own world, ignoring the chaos around them. The smell of alcohol was rich and wasn't making matters any better. Words slurred together and glass bottles were being swung around in the air. It was past midnight. And all this was about to get a whole lot worse if it wasn't for a boy, a seventeen year old, tall, well built, smug, pushing his way through the drunken crowd, swatting away hands that tried to hold him back.

The boy finally got a look at the middle of the crowd and, most importantly, the two special individuals in the center of the gathered circle. He saw a man, at least in his early thirties, in no shape to drive, or even walk in a straight line. He had bright red hair that was sticking off of his head at odd angles and his tie was crooked and loose. His suit was expensive, suggesting he worked at a high ranking, very stressful job. On his left wrist was a watch, golden, its hands set three hours behind.

In the middle of all this commotion was a table. It was on its side, cracked even, and scattered all around it was a mess of cards. But the boy didn't take too much notice to these things. No, no, no, all he saw was the reason he was here. The other side of this vain fight.

Another boy. Clearly younger than the first to anyone but the people in this bar. His short, curly, blond hair stuck to his head with sweat as he continued to dodge and back away from the flying fists. He wasn't exactly as well built as the first boy and, to all that didn't know him, was considered weak. But he could hold his own. Getting into a fight with him would not end well because not only did he have a lot of overlooked physical strength, he was also very fast and very smart. His too small, too thin frame was covered in only an old, ratty t-shirt and some ripped jeans. And, boy, was he ready to put up a fight. Sadly, he wouldn't get to be thrown around any longer.

Just as the old man was about to take a swing, the seventeen year old stepped right in front of the younger boy, who he could hear breathing heavily, suggesting they'd been at this little game for more than only a few minutes. "Whoa whoa whoa, fellas," the boy started. "What's the problem here?" He put his hands up, in front of his chest, assuring the man that he came in peace... for now.

The slobbering drunk scoffed, then gave one, almost humorous, laugh before his face became annoyed and angry. "Not that it's any of your business," the words slurred together, making it hard to understand, but the kid caught the words, barely, as he had to resist the urge to cough when the strong smell of beer met his nose when the man spoke. "But that little bitch," he pointed behind the seventeen year old, trying to lunge at the smaller kid only for the older boy to continue to move into his way. "Just cheated me outta a hundred bucks!"

The boy raised his eyebrows at this. He crossed his arms and glanced over his shoulder at the boy who supposedly did this. His chest was heaving as he constantly tried to catch his breath. He looked up at the older boy with eyes that could only be described as pleading and so the older boy turned back to the man. "How do ya know he was cheatin'?" He asked, knowing for a fact this man was lying.

The drunk stuttered for a moment. It seemed he couldn't find the right words. Then he sighed in anger. "No one can win at poker like it's just nothin'!" He pointed out, making another lunge for the boy but was, yet again, blocked. "He played three games and won all of 'em! No ones that good!"

"So ya never actually caught him?" The boy asked with a smirk. Then he took a moment to take in the rest of his surroundings. He knew his time was about to be up and he didn't see a way out. Everyone was still around them, blocking his view, still screaming for the fight to continue. But he knew if they didn't get out of there soon, things would take a turn for the worse. And, the boy quickly realized soon had become now, when the man's face hatched into a smile and he got a real look at both of the boys, the younger one mostly.

"Wait a minute..." he slurred, "I know what this is!" He announced to the crowd who all quieted down, waiting for the man to continue. "You ain't no hero tryin' ta stop a bar fight!" He shoved the boy's chest with his finger and all the kid could do was sneer at him. "Ya just don't want no one ta call a cop on your underage friend here!"

The boy was shocked that this drunken man could put all that together in his state. After all, he could barely form a sentence but, none the less, he was right. The kid tried to shake his head and laugh it off anyways, not expecting what was about to happen next. The man started shouting again. "Grab 'em!" And immediately, the smaller boy's arms had been seized by two other men, being painfully twisted behind his back.

The younger kid struggled as he watched the older boy dodging hands that were reaching out to trap him. The small boy cried out and tried to run to his rescuer's aid but was unable. And as he continued to try and slip out of the mens' grasp, he failed to see a woman next to him with a glass bottle of beer in her hand. It was half empty and it was raised in her slender hand above her head. The boy just kept struggling, desperate to make it to the other boy who was fighting off the drunks who tried to grab him. He didn't expect glass to shatter over his head and for bitter smelling liquid to cover him as he fell to his knees, trying to push away the black spots that filled his vision.

The boy heard the glass break, followed by the heart wrenching scream of the other kid. The whole place seemed to stop as the kid's knees hit the ground and his head hung low. The seventeen year old looked back at the man as he gave an evil smile. "Maybe we can 'ave some fun with 'em first." The older boy cringed at the drunken tone of the man who was now eying the kid on the ground. Some folks walked away, others joined in, clawing at the poor boy like animals, but no one did anything to stop them. So the tall kid pushed up the sleeves on his dark red, old, zip up sweatshirt, and did the only thing he could think to do.

As fast as he could the kid turned to the man that he had quickly grown to hate, his fist clenched and ready to swing and he didn't hesitate before punching the drunk square in the nose.

The man screamed in pain and fell to the floor. No one came to his aid. He glared at the boy but made no move to retaliate. So the boy turned to look at the crowd that was now shocked into silence. Then as quickly as it stopped, it started again. People were yelling for someone to call the police and others were yelling for another fight to start but the boy heard none of it as he made his way to the other kid.

The younger boy was fighting the darkness that clouded around him. He tried to stay at the surface so he could escape somehow. He weakly struggled in the grip that had his arms pinned behind him but he was trapped. Then he looked up to see his savior step up in front of the drunk bullies that held him still. Even in the kid's state, he could see the fury that filled the other boy's face.

"So fellas," the older boy cracked his knuckles and straightening himself up to his full height. "Ya gonna let him go? Or do I gotta do this the hard way?" He asked, trying his best not to look down at the boy that would be face down on the ground right now if not for the two men holding his arms.

One of the men scoffed and shook his head. Reluctantly, he dropped the poor kid's arm which was immediately grabbed by the other man. He didn't seem drunk. He just seemed like he wanted a fight. And right now, the boy seemed to have no other choice but than to grant him his wish and swing his fists at the man's head.

When another fight began, the man dropped the almost unconscious kid's arm, causing the small boy to fall to the ground, face first into the broken glass. The rest was a blur. All the kid heard was yelling and fighting and it seemed to go on forever until he heard the crowd yelling for more because it had seemingly stopped for a moment. When he felt a pair of hands on his back, about to yank him back up, he flinched. Truth was, he could've handled a fight with one very drunk sore loser but, after that ended, he was sadly outnumbered. He wasn't ready for another fight. Luckily, that wasn't what was happening.

The seventeen year old boy yanked up the young gambler and stood him to his feet, trying his best to ignore the chimes of the glass that he pulled the kid out of. He tucked the smaller boy underneath his right arm and carefully guided him to the backdoor of the small bar, the one the kid must've come in through. He held the boy up, helping him walk out and get far enough away that they knew they couldn't be found by anyone in that damn place.

The tall boy gently lowered the kid onto the ground, leaning him up against the wall of an alleyway, behind some trashcans, trying his best to conceal them both from unwanted, peering eyes. He saw the kid, struggling to keep his eyes open, breathing hard like he'd been running and all he wanted to do was make it stop. He wiped away little pieces of glass that had stuck to the boy's shirt and some to his pale, bruised skin. Both of them ignored the strong smell of beer that covered the boy's small frame as they hid from view.

The older boy relaxed a bit as the boy seemed to regain control of his eyes and look up at him. Though he saw the regret in the kid's eyes, and a bit of fear. And boy, did he have reason for that.

"Are you alright?" The seventeen year old asked, placing his hand on the kid's cheek. The younger boy groaned and weakly coughed as he tried to readjust himself on the wall but nodded anyway. "Good." The taller boy said flatly before he smacked the other kid in the chest, not enough to do any damage, but enough to make the kid let out a small word of hurt. "Anthony Higgins, what the hell were ya thinkin'?!" He shouted.

The boy, Anthony, flinched at the use of his full name. It was rarely used, only on the angriest of occasions would it be yelled in his face. But he didn't answer, waiting for the older boy to continue in his silence. "When I told ya ta get outta the house ta get away from a drunk man that was afta ya, ya immediately go find anotha' drunk man ta beat the hell outta ya?! What the hell were ya thinkin'?" He scolded, hoping no one was around to hear them and call the cops because it was after midnight. After their curfew.

"Jack, I-" The smaller boy tried to speak but the other, Jack, wasn't quite finished yet.

"How long did ya think ya would go until someone found out you was underage?" The boy asked, no longer yelling, but still speaking firmly enough to make the kid look down in shame. "You're fifteen, Race. You had no business bein' in there." Jack's voice was filled to the brim with anger. But Race knew that Jack had just been worried sick. "And so help me God, kid, if you had a drink-" The older boy cut himself off when he saw the younger boy close his eyes and hide his face from Jack's view with his hands. "Race... tell me you didn't." Jack wasn't asking. He was more like warning the boy.

Race shrugged his shoulders and moved his hands, his mouth desperately trying to come up with a word, an explanation, anything that would make Jack's anger lessen. But he knew it wouldn't work like that. So he dropped his hands and sighed. "The guy said if I didn't he wouldn't gamble anymore." He explained. "He said he wasn't goin' up against someone with an unfair advantage."

Jack sharply inhaled, trying in vain to control his anger. "Racetrack, what the hell were you thinking? You could've gotten yourself killed!" Jack scolded, gesturing to the boy. "It's a miracle we even got outta there!" He realized the yelling was getting him no where. Race was tired, hurt and possibly a little bit drunk and he was shutting down at Jack's outbursts. So, instead, Jack lowered himself into a squating position right in front of the fifteen year old. "What were ya thinkin' kid?" He asked, gently this time, wanting, for once, to know what went on in this kid's head.

"First off, I ain't no kid! I'm only two years younger than you." Race retaliated. But then he stopped and remembered why he'd done it. Why he'd risked being arrested for the past three hours while he gambled for a little extra cash. "And I was thinkin' that Crutchie ain't eaten in two days..." he whispered, angrily. Not angry at Jack, but angry at so many other things. "And you haven't eaten in longer. And I was thinkin' that if we just have a little extra money, we could get outta here. Go to that place out west you're always daydreamin' about because-" Race stopped himself as the sleepless nights, the running and the fighting and all the emotions caught up to him, causing his voice to crack. "Because we don't deserve this..."

Jack shook his head as the boy in front of him sniffled and wiped away his tears before they fell. He twisted around his body and let himself lean up against the wall that the younger boy was propped up against. He took the kid into his arms and Race melted into him. He didn't cry, only sniffled while Jack rubbed his back. The older boy looked down at him as something occurred to him. "Race, when was the last time you ate?" His response was Race's silence. The boy buried himself deeper in his embrace and Jack shook his head at his own carelessness. "Race?" He asked again.

Race remained quiet. And Jack grew more and more worried. He tried to wrack his brain for a moment that he last saw the young blond eating something, anything, and found that he didn't recall anything. Last time he'd seen Race with food in his hand... "You gave it to me." The young gambler still didn't reply. Damn it. "Four days Race?" Jack asked. "Four days since you've eaten?"

"Jack, I-" Race tried, but he cut himself off. "You were hungry... could barely keep yourself from shakin'..." He explained. "I couldn't just eat in front of you and be ok with it."

"Racetrack..." Jack sighed, pulling away from the kid so he could see his young, innocent face. He shook his head, taking Race's face in his hands. "It is not your job to take care of me." He told him, sincerely. "That's my job. I'm the oldest. I'm supposed ta take care of you and Crutchie and you're not supposed ta starve yourself for me..." Jack's voice cracked with emotion.

"I don't care." Jack was taken back at Race's response. His voice was exhausted and weak and Jack realized now that Race had probably been seriously hurt during that fight. "I don't care that you're the oldest!" Race slurred, not out of drunkenness, but out of the night he'd given up sleep to earn a little extra cash. Race was exhausted. "Does the word brother mean somethin' to ya?" He asked. "I don't care how much older you are, Kelly. You're my brother and brothers look out for each other. We protect each other!"

Jack smiled and wiped at the unshed tears in his eyes. "Kid..." The older boy laughed and shook his head. "I couldn't of asked for better brothers." He swore and Race smiled at him. But that smile was short lived as the boy's eyes slid shut for a moment and he slumped against the wall. Jack panicked, but only a moment later Race was wide awake, coughing violently.

"J-Jack." He managed to choke out before he pushed himself from the wall, turned, and all of the contents of his stomach, which wasn't much, were a mess on the ground. He coughed as his body searched for more material to dispose of but found none and left the boy dry heaving on his hands and knees as Jack rubbed his back and ran hands through his sticky, messy, damp hair.

After what felt like hours, Race was done. Jack let the boy rest against him as he tried to find the strength to move. Then he heard a very faint whisper. "What about my clothes?" The poor kid asked. Jack furrowed his eyebrows.

"What about 'em?" He asked, looking over the kid, making sure he was truly ok.

"If he gets anywhere near me... he'll know where I was. I'm covered in that woman's beer." Race explained, weakly. Jack nodded and sat in silence for a moment, taking in the silence of a city that was never supposed to sleep.

"I ain't gonna let 'im touch ya Race." Jack vowed, placing a soft, brotherly kiss in the boy's curly blond hair. "Plus, he's passed out on the couch right now. That's the only reason I left Crutch alone with him. We have at least until noon tomorrow to wash your clothes."

Race nodded. As much as he wanted to sleep in the moment, in his brother's arms in the silence of midnight in New York City, the screams echoed in his head. And not only from that night. The screams that haunted Race everyday. The angry screams of his mother who was supposed to be there for them, the desperate cries of his brothers as he was ripped from their arms, the drunken screams of a man who couldn't care less weather they were dead or alive. Race shivered as he recalled these things and realized just how cold it was at that moment, in the middle of September. Almost immediately, Jack's sweatshirt was around him and he felt safe. It was too big for him, but he didn't mind. It was warm and welcoming, just like Jack. Just like his big brother.

Jack smiled and pushed Race to his feet. "Let's get you home kid." And they walked off into the night, forgetting about the horrors they knew they would soon face.


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello again friends! I was gonna wait a week to post this, but really... what’s the point? 
> 
> I hope you all enjoy!

They had been about a half a mile from their so called "home". When they had started their short journey back, Race had been tucked underneath Jack's arm as he helped him stay on his feet in his state. But after a few steps, the starving boy's legs had begun to shake and give out from underneath him. The kid had whimpered out a cry for help before he almost collapsed on the ground. If it wasn't for Jack's strong arms, he would've. So Jack did the only thing that he could do. He put the fading boy on his back. He held the kid under the knees and let Race rest his tired head on his shoulder as he walked them home. But he knew that if his brother didn't eat soon, things would only start to spiral more.

Jack sighed and tried to keep his brother talking. "Race?" He whispered, doing his best not to startle the boy. The kid hummed in response, prompting Jack to continue. "You really cheat?" He asked, genuinely curious. He felt the small boy give a tired laugh in response.

"My secrets are my own Jackie-boy." Race mumbled, smiling when his big brother laughed at him. "But, if I was cheatin', he wouldn't of known about it." He smiled, readjusting his head on Jack's strong shoulder, so his chin rested there instead. Jack glanced over at the boy and shook his head.

"Ya got the money?" Jack asked, bumping Race further up his back by pushing up on his knees. He barely felt Race nod his head against his shirt and he could've cried in relief. "Then cmon kid, we're gettin' ya somethin' ta eat."

Race didn't respond, and Jack grew more worried by the second. He went to the first place he saw open and grabbed something for his brother to eat, digging around in the kid's pocket for the money. The girl at the counter didn't seem to even notice that there was a boy in there that could hardly stand and looked to be a bit beaten up, or even that he smelled like he should be drunk out of his mind, but Jack didn't care. He grabbed Race an actual meal and set it in front of the kid at the booth they'd claimed in an empty restaurant.

Watching the kid was becoming torture for Jack as he saw things that he should've noticed days ago. The dark circles under his eyes told Jack the story of how he hadn't slept in a week because he'd been fighting off nightmares and was too proud to wake him up. His ripped clothes showed Jack why Race had been coming to bed late and he'd been too scared to tell Jack about it. The bruise on his forehead made Jack angry. When he'd seen it the first time, he thought nothing of it, but now, two days later he knew why he heard something smack up against a wall while he and Crutchie were in their bedroom.

"Race..." Jack tried to apologize as he saw Race forcing himself to eat, knowing the kid had gone far too long without food and now didn't want it. But the boy shook his head.

"It ain't your fault Jack." Race said, and Jack could already hear the difference in the boy's voice. "It ain't your fault that Crutch got sick and you had ta take care of him. It ain't your fault we are livin' with a crazy man, it ain't your fault our mother was a drug addict. None of this is your fault." Race promised.

Jack sniffled and blinked back the tears that he knew wanted so desperately to fall. He nodded as he spoke. "I just wanna take care of you guys. You're all I have and I can't lose you. And you've been scaring the hell outta of me tonight Race and Crutchie can barely stand up and I'm scared alright?"

Race nodded as he finished about a third of the burger that Jack had ordered for him. "You're scaring the hell outta me too, Kelly. Eat some of this and we can give the last of it ta Crutchie. He's probably worried sick." Jack nodded and did as he was told, happy that Race seemed to be able to keep his eyes open for the moment.

It was one AM. An hour had passed since Jack had found his brother. Now the older boy looked up at the latter to their room. Race was standing next to him, his big brother's arm around his shoulders. Jack knew the boy must've been tired, so he let the boy onto his back and he pulled down the latter to the fire escape. As he climbed up, he made sure there was no way for him to drop his brother. Once he made it to their window, he stood for a moment, telling himself to breathe and that everything would be alright, before he slid the glass up and ducked himself and his brother inside.

The apartment was a decent size. Not too small, definitely big enough for one man and his three servants. As Jack entered, he heard loud, obnoxious snoring coming from the living room, which was just off the kitchen. He tiptoed silently to the back room, which was also the three boys' bedroom.

Jack opened the door and sighed when he saw what was waiting for him inside. "Crutch what are ya doin' up, kid?" He whispered, doing his best not to wake up Race, who he knew was now asleep on his back.

The boy in question sat, his back against the wall, on the single bed in the room. It was a double twin sized bed. There was only a single blanket that barely covered it all, but at least the mattress was up off the ground. There were no pillows and the bed wasn't that soft but it was still a place to sleep. On top of the bed sat a boy, no more than fourteen. One of his legs was stretched out in front of him, at an odd angle, but the kid didn't seem to care. His other leg was bent at the knee and propping up a book in his hand. There was a lamp on a nightstand next to him, shedding a bit of light on the words on the pages. And a metal crutch lay on the floor at the foot of the bed. The kid looked up and when he did, Jack saw the thing he didn't think he could handle.

There were circles underneath his bright, green eyes, not quite as bad as Race's but bad enough to take notice to. His short, blond hair stuck off of his head as if he'd run his hand through it many times. His shaky hands rose to the page to track where his eyes needed to go to understand the story. His skin was paler than Race's and a bead of sweat stuck to his forehead. Despite this, he wore only a long sleeve t-shirt and some sweatpants to keep him warm, but most of all, the thing that broke Jack's heart the most. On the young, blond boy's face were tear running down his cheeks.

"J-Jack?" The kid rasped. It was clear in his voice that he was sick. He had some sort of bad cold. He sniffled as Jack walked closer to him.

"Yeah," The older boy whispered. "Yeah Crutchie... I'm here kid, what's wrong?" He asked, worriedly. He stepped into the room further, feeling Race move his head and stir on his back.

"Race?" The boy's voice made Jack's stomach twist in knots. And the way those green eyes were hoping that this wasn't a dream was killing him slowly.

"He's right here." Jack promised, sitting down on the edge of the bed, the side that Crutchie wasn't on, and gently lowering his brother onto the mattress and turning to him just in time to see his boyish blue eyes open. He ran a hand through the boy's curly blond hair and smiled at him, reassuring him, without words, that they were ok. "I found him and he's alright." He said, looking back up at Crutchie.

That was all it took for Crutchie's tears to start falling. The book fell from his shaking hands, hitting the floor with a faint thud. Race was on his back on the bed but still reached up to Crutchie, letting him into his embrace. The boy collapsed on him, ignoring the strong smell of liquor that covered him, not even caring a little bit about it at the moment. He buried his face in Race's shirt and sobbed.

"Whoa kid," Race whispered, shocked at the kid's sudden outburst. "What happened Crutch?" He asked, gently rubbing the kid's back.

Jack sat on the edge of the bed, beside the two boys and ran a hand through the youngest's hair. "Ya have a nightmare, kid?" Jack asked, hating the way those innocent eyes peeked up at him with unshed tears in them. That was all the answer Jack needed. "Ya wanna talk about it?"

Crutchie buried his head in Race's chest again, trying to stop his quiet sobs long enough to explain. "It... it was so real, Jack... like we was back there all over again..."

Immediately, Race tightened his hold on the younger boy. No more explanation was needed. The two knew what the nightmare was about. "I was holdin' onto you guys so tight but it didn't matter!" Crutchie's voice was still a whisper but it held so much fear and anger at that day. That stupid, terrifying day. "I just heard Race screamin' and tryin' ta get away and then... then they took me and I couldn't do anythin'... I was scared..."

The room got intensely quiet after that. Flashes of that day filling up their brains like a flood. Too many painful memories of what happened that day, the tears, the hits, the doors slamming and then the desperate screams. It was too much for them to handle.

"Crutch..." Jack sighed, noting Race's bright blue eyes beginning to start swimming as he recalled the horrific memories as well. He placed his hand on his youngest brother's knee and smiled. "We're here. We're together and it's gonna stay like that. That ain't ever gonna happen again. Ya hear?"

Crutchie nodded, wiping away the tears that were streaming down his face and sitting up so Race could follow suit, though the blue eyed boy still leaned himself up against the wall. Then, out of no where, the boy laughed. "Race?" He asked and the taller boy nodded up at him, also wiping away the water built up in his tired eyes. "Why do ya smell like a bar?"

Race chuckled and looked down at himself as he sat up. He looked up to Jack to see the other boy smiling too and so Race pulled out of his pocket, the money he'd made from that night. It was a mixture of paper and metal but it was all real. He let it drop onto the bed and Crutchie's eyes lit up at the sight. "You got all that?"

"We also brought ya somethin' ta eat." Jack added, bringing up his hand with a take out bag in it that Crutchie had yet to see. The boy smiled at them and Jack quietly pulled the last of the burger out of the bag, handing it to his little brother. The sick boy took it gratefully and almost devoured the thing, if not for Race reaching up and holding the food back away from him enough to get some air.

"Slow down kid." He chuckled, watching his kid brother finish the last of the food. Race smiled but then suddenly realized how weak he felt. His head started to throb and his eyes started to slip shut. And Jack noticed in the nick of time.

"No no no no no Racer!" Jack whispered, forcing the boy to sit up by gently putting his hand behind the back of the boy's head as his other pulled him up by his arm. "Ya gotta stay awake so we can get this smell off of ya." He explained, angry at the woman that had done this to an innocent boy that had done nothing to deserve it. "I swear I ever see that woman again I'll-"

"Jack..." Race breathed, exhausted, warning his brother not to go into detail as their baby brother was still in the room. The fifteen year old, sat up, immediately falling onto Jack's chest and his older brother laughed.

"Kid," He whined with a chuckle as he tried to get the boy to sit up straight. "Cmon, I gotta do all this too?" He laughed, but he soon realized Race's tired moan was the last response he'd get from the boy that night as Race laid back down and the mattress and passed out of total exhaustion.

Crutchie quietly laughed as he watched his big brother finally give into sleep. He knew Race had been waking up from nightmares too for the past few days. He knew that Race had been giving up his food and striving to get money anyway he could. The gimp boy was happy he'd finally been forced to pass out. "Ya need any help Jack?" He asked when he saw Jack sigh and get up, no doubt to clean the boy up. Crutchie was about to get up, reaching for his crutch to help in some way but Jack waved him off.

"Don't get up." He sighed, not wanting to cause the boy any trouble. But he did need some help. "Just... try to slip his shirt and jeans off of 'im and," he said, moving over to the single dresser in the small room and grabbing some sweatpants and a sweatshirt. "Put these on him after I clean him up." He said, tossing the clothes across the room to his little brother who was smirking at him. None the less, he still did as he was told as Jack left the room.

Jack walked his way through the dark hall to the single bathroom in the apartment. As silently as he could, he opened the creaky door and prayed no one could hear it. His steps were carefully weighed as he slipped into the room. Without turning the light on, he grabbed a bar of soap and an old cloth, wetting it with some tap water from the sink. Then he grabbed a small bucket and filled it with water before laying the cloth over the side and turning back to the cracked open door.

The boy let out a nervous breath before slipping back out and quickly tiptoeing his way back through the hall. When he was at the door that separated him and his brothers, he stopped. He peered his head around the corner to see a man.

The living room was dark but the faint glow of the moon from behind the clouds was enough to make out his features. He was a big man. He had some muscle on his bones but he wasn't what anyone would call a body builder. He was tall, and a bit old looking. He looked like he could fight pretty well. His grey hair was a mess above his harsh, drunk features and his mustache only made him look older. He wore a black suit, the shoes kicked off his feet, lying on the ground beside the old couch. His tie was loosened and his collar unbuttoned. He was dead asleep. The snoring still echoed through the house but that wasn't what made his presence known. There was more liquor in that house than Race had brought home on his clothing. Surrounding the man were bottles of wine and beer and Jack wondered how he hadn't drunk himself to death already. The boy shook his head at the man that lay on the couch without a spec of a care, before turning and slipping back into his room.

He smiled as he saw his youngest brother already done with taking Race's old t-shirt and jeans off leaving the boy in his boxers. The smallest boy was still on the bed, his bum leg stretched out in front of him oddly, while his other was brought up underneath him to prop himself up, over Race. Jack smiled at him and slowly moved over to his brothers. He set the bucket down on the floor before sitting on the side of the bed and grabbing the cloth from the rim of the pale.

Just as Jack had rubbed the soap over the cloth and was about to touch it to his poor brother's pale, bruised skin, he heard a very small voice. "Be careful Jack..." His baby brother whispered, not once looking up at him as all his attention was on Race. "I don't want him ta start panicking again... like last time..." Crutchie weakly coughed after his last sentence and Jack shushed him, shaking his head and placing a comforting hand on his shoulder.

"I'm gonna be real careful, Crutch... I promise." He reassured before moving his hands back to what he was doing. He held his breath as he made contact with the too light skin.

Race felt something cold make contact with his exposed chest. It wasn't an unfamiliar feeling. It wasn't a pleasant feeling. He moaned and tried desperately to open his heavy eyes but found he couldn't. So instead, he started calling out for the only people who he knew would always protect him. "Jack... Crutchie..."

Race's soft, panicked mutters were barely made out to Crutchie. The boy knew his brother must be saying their names, but was so tired he couldn't form proper words. He wondered how Race had even stayed up this long and how Jack wasn't behaving the exact same way, being that he only got, at most, four to five hours of sleep every night.

Crutchie shook his head, moving himself closer to his brother using his arms. He ran a hand through the boy's dirty hair and did all the things he'd known Jack had done to calm both of them down. "Shush Race... it's just us. No one's here ta hurt ya. Go back ta sleep..."

Race heard his baby brother's voice and his whole body seemed to relax again. He let himself drift back into a peaceful sleep, at the same time, allowing Jack to continue what he'd been doing with a small, proud smile.

It took Jack about twenty minutes to clean up Race. He'd had to scrub the liquid off of the fifteen year olds body and then he'd had to run the soapy cloth through the kid's hair several times. Once he was done though, he took Race's clothes from that day and shoved them into the bucket, cleaning them by hand. By the time he finished, Crutchie had been captured by sleep too. The smallest of the three was lying on his side, his arms around himself, only a few inches from Race. Jack smiled at them. He was glad his brothers were asleep before two AM. Now it was his turn.

The oldest boy hung his brother's wet clothes from a bar that hung from their ceiling, for who knows what, dumped the bucket out into the alley way below the single window in that small room and then left the bucket in a corner with the cloth inside it. Then he moved over to the bed, collecting the money that still lay in between his two sleeping brothers and place it in a draw in the nightstand beside the bed. Finally he was able to carefully slip his fifteen year old brother into a pair of sweatpants and an old sweatshirt before he joined his brothers on the bed.

He carefully moved his youngest brother further onto the mattress, smiling as he watched the small kid sneeze and then subconsciously rest his head on Race's chest. He gently felt the boy's forehead with the back of his hand, relief flooding through his body when he felt that it was not too hot. Then Jack crawled onto the bed, still fully clothed, too tired to change into anything else. He brought the blanket up over the three of them and lay down so his chest was against Crutchie's back.

As he drifted off, he prayed tomorrow would not bring back the dangers of today or any day before that. He prayed that for one, simple day, him and his brothers would be safe. But nothing could ever just be simple.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> As always, thanks for reading! Make sure to tell me what you liked, what you didn’t, what you’d change or what you’d improve by leaving me a review! Love ya, friends!


	3. Chapter 3

In Manhattan there was no such thing as a quiet, peaceful morning. There were horns blazing and sirens blaring and people all out and about and that was fine with Jack. He didn't care much about the sounds that woke him up in the morning. As long as it wasn't a door opening very sharply, making the whole house echo when it slammed against the wall.

"What the hell do you idiots think you're doing?!" A man barked from the doorway of the small bedroom.

Jack bolted upright and found that light was streaming into the room. He looked through the window and took a guess. It must've been eight o'clock in the morning. He looked over to see a man in the door way. His eyes were squinted as if too much light would hurt and he was hunched over like his stomach was killing him. Yet, he still had on a nice black suit and his old, grey hair was combed back neatly.

He also saw his brothers. Crutchie was starting to sit up but Race was laying down still. He looked to be scared to move. He didn't look over at the man, he only looked down at his own hands as he played with the seem of the blanket.

"The hell do you think you're doing sleeping at this hour?!" The man yelled, stomping closer to the bed. Jack saw Race flinch and he was on his feet in an instant, despite Crutchie's desperate grab at his arm.

Race sat up straight as his older brother blocked the old man from his view. He hissed as a pain shot in his head and he heard a memory of glass shattering over his skull.

"Let them sleep, they're sick. They need to rest." Jack stated, calmly, glancing over his shoulder to see Crutchie with his hand on Race's shoulder, watching him with concern as the older boy touched his hand to the back of his head, flinching at his own touch. He sighed and turned back to the man, who was slowly advancing on him. Jack stepped back but still shielded his brothers from view.

"Sick?" The man scoffed, his voice gruff and harsh. "The gimp has been 'sick' for the past week." He stated, using his fingers to indicate that he didn't believe their story. "And you expect me to believe that this," he pointed to Race, who looked to be growing angrier by the minute, "little thieving bastard, is sick?"

The blond boy almost jumped off the bed, but his little brother grabbed his wrist, resulting in the gambler on his knees on the mattress. "I didn't steal nothin' from you! You lying son of a-"

"Racetrack!" Jack scolded, looking at the boy over his shoulder. He shook his head and Race's angry gaze avoided his and shot down to the ground instead.

"Oh..." The man sighed. "Feeling better now, are we?" He laughed at Race and then his features became cold. "I would love to hear you finish that sentence Anthony." He leaned forward to the boy and Jack tried his best to stay in between them. "I'm all ears, boy." He spat.

Race's gaze stayed on the ground. His breathing speed up as he couldn't figure out what to do when the man demanded he finish something he'd surely be punished for.

"He didn't mean it." Crutchie muttered, his hand still wrapped around his brother's arm, trying to pull him back.

"Oh I see," the man sighed. He took a step back, letting Jack continue to shield his brothers from his grasp but the man just laughed and shook his head before he struck. He pushed Jack to the side, not giving it any thought when the boy grunted in pain as he landed on his side on the ground. He stepped forward towards the bed, not even feeling a spec of guilt when he backhanded Racetrack across his right cheek. The boy's head snapped to the side but he refused to make a sound of pain, no matter how badly his cheek burned from the loud slap it had just received.

"Race!" Crutchie cried and the fifteen year old looked up at the kid's warning. He saw a hand grab for his throat and was powerless to stop it.

Jack was forced to sit and watch his choking brother claw at the man's hands, desperately gasping for air as the hand around his throat squeezed his air supply shut. He was stuck watching the boy be slammed against the wall. He wanted nothing more than to throw himself on top of the hungover man and fight him off but he knew that would only make matters worse.

"You have three seconds to apologize to me." The man ordered. "Or not only do you get punished later, but I will do twice as much damage to your useless brother over there." He nodded to Crutchie and Jack almost lost it but he patiently waited to see what would happen.

Race growled but he looked up into the man's cold grey eyes and saw he was serious. He knew he wasn't getting out of this. So he did his best to get enough air to speak.

"I-I'm..." Race stuttered, forcing the words out of his squeezed throat.

"Two seconds." The man urged, nonchalantly looking down at his watch.

"S-sorry... sir..." Race forced out. He felt humiliated. He said nothing wrong, only spoke the truth. This man was crazy. And hungover, and Race wasn't sure if it was better than him being drunk or not.

The man hummed in some sort of satisfaction before he dropped the boy and let him fall to the mattress on his hands and knees. Crutchie immediately wrapped his arms around his panting brother.

Race put a protective hand over his throat as the man started to turn and walk away. Once he made it to the door, he turned. "I'll be back to deal with you later." He announced, then he looked pointedly at Jack who was propping himself up by his elbows on the ground. "And this place better damn well be spotless!" Then the door was slammed shut and the three brothers sat in the silence, only Race's harsh breathing was heard until the sound of another door slammed, indicating that the man had left the crummy apartment.

Race closed his eyes, trying to get enough air to make his head stop pounding. He felt Crutchie's gentle hand running over his back and his other wrap around his torso. The younger boy's knees were under him so he could hover over his brother's heaving form. Race also heard some shuffling from the ground in front of the bed and he couldn't stop the tears from streaming down his face.

When Jack heard Race's first sob, his heart broke a little. The boy pushed himself to his feet and slowly walked over to his brother, knowing why he was so upset. He locked eyes with Crutchie and he broke under the gaze of those tears shimmering in the boy's eyes.

"Racer-" Jack tried but he found he didn't know what to say. He carefully sat down on the bed. He sighed but knew better than to touch his brother.

"I-I'm sorry Jack..." Race hiccuped. "I didn't mean ta-" Race sniffled as Jack cut him off with a soothing shush.

"Jack..." Crutchie whispered, still holding his brother. "He's gonna hurt him again. He said-"

"I know Crutch..." Jack sighed. He just took in the sight of his two brothers. Race was still hunched over, refusing to look up, balancing on one hand and his knees while the other still held his aching throat. Crutchie was sitting on his knees. He was leaning over Race, both his arms still around the older boy's torso as Race caught his breath and sobbed. His head rested on the other boy's back and Jack shook his head. He scooted closer to his brother and gently spoke, "Come here." He ordered softly, opening up his arms for the two boys.

Hesitantly, Race let himself sit on his knees, still looking down at the mattress and letting Crutchie's hand continue to rest on his back. He felt a hand touch his arm and flinched before hearing, "It's just me, kid. I would never hurt you. Come here..." Jack whispered. Race's teary eyes looked up to met his big brother's. He saw the older boy sitting in front of him, his legs criss-cross and his arms wide open for him. Then, without another thought, Race launched himself at his brother.

Crutchie smiled when Race allowed Jack to touch him, hold him even. Then he carefully crawled into Jack's embrace himself.

Race was sobbing into Jack shirt. His knees were folded underneath him as he buried his head in Jack's chest. His arms were tightly wrapped around his brother's torso and his whole body shook.

Crutchie sat next to Jack. His back was up against the bars at the edge of the bed. His legs lay out in front of him and he leaned into his brother's welcoming embrace. His head was laid on Jack's shoulder and he pulled his knees up to his chest as his brother put his arm around his shoulders. He closed his eyes and sniffled before he coughed again.

Jack held his brothers close. One on the verge of tears and one fully sobbing. "Shshshsh..." Jack soothed. "It's gonna be ok." He promised. He rubbed Race's back as he cried and kissed Crutchie's forehead. They sat there in silence for a long time before Jack heard one of his brothers whisper.

"I'm so sorry..." Race sobbed into Jack's shirt. Crutchie reached his hand over and rested it on the back of his big brother's neck.

"It ain't your fault Race." Crutchie tried.

"It is my fault!" Race countered, lifting his head up from Jack's shirt. He looked at Crutchie with such guilt in his eyes and it killed the smaller boy to see his brother like that. "I can't shut my big mouth! And it's gonna get you guys in trouble!" He cried, recalling what the man had said about what was to happen later if he hadn't apologized.

"Race..." Jack sighed, letting the boy sit up and swallowing hard when he saw that his brother's cheek was burning red from the slap he'd received. The boy sat on his knees in front of Jack and looked down at his hands, waiting for Jack to continue. "It doesn't matter what ya said. If you were right or wrong." He explained. "He has no right ta attack you like that! You're just a kid..." Jack wasn't prepared for his voice to shake. He wasn't prepared for the emotion that hit him like a ton of bricks. He put his hand on Race's knee and tightened his hold on Crutchie, who looked up at him with tired green eyes. "You're just kids who have been through a lot... a lot that I couldn't stop..." Race leaned back into his brother and simply let himself be held.

For a while, they sat there in the comfort of each other's presence. Race calmed down eventually letting Jack rock him and Crutchie slightly, trying to calm himself down and stop himself from thinking of the things he couldn't stop. The things that haunted him everyday. After a while Jack finally thought they might as well get up and clean because he hated to think about the things that would happen if they didn't.

"Let's get a move on fellas." Jack patted his brothers on the back. "This house ain't gonna clean itself." He watched sadly as Race glumly slipped off the bed and started getting dressed and felt even worse when he saw Crutchie shove his crutch under his right armpit and start limping his way around the room. Still Jack sighed and followed his brothers' lead.

It took them three hours to clean that disaster. Beer bottles everywhere, vomit stains on the carpet, and liter everywhere. They scrubbed the countertops and the floors as best they could and they did their best to make the bathroom look new but they were no miracle workers. They did their best and then promptly collapsed on the couch. It was about noon now and the three boys were exhausted.

Jack sat on the edge of the couch, his chin resting in his hand which was propped up by his elbow on the arm rest. His legs were neatly stretched out in front of him as he let his eyes rest for a moment. Crutchie's head lay on his lap, peacefully. The boy's crutch was disregarded on the ground at the moment as the boy got some well needed rest. He lay on his side, the rest of his body up against the back of the couch allowing Race to be silently dreaming right next to him. Race's head lay on Crutchie's chest and it rose up and down as the younger boy took each and every breath. The fifteen year olds legs were bent at the knees and curled up to his chest. They lay there like that, exhausted, until the sound of someone knocking at their door snapped Jack back into reality.

The oldest boy on the couch jumped when he heard the firm knock at the door. His eyes snapped open and he took a quick look around. He saw his brothers, oblivious to the person knocking on the door, and smiled. He carefully slipped his hands underneath Crutchie's head and gently moved the boy to the couch as he slipped out from underneath him.

Jack sighed as he tiredly stumbled his way around the couch and to the door that was right next to the small kitchen. He opened the door until the chain restricted it from going any farther and his face scrunched up in confusion at what he saw.

Outside the door stood a tall, dark haired boy. He wore a nice, long sleeve, button up, white shirt with some black slacks. His shoes were shiny, new and black. He saw a slight smile on the kid's face, a friendly one. One that was foreign to Jack. His kind eyes found Jack's hesitant ones and he just smiled at him.

"Hi there!" He greeted, happily. "My names David. I'm your new neighbor."

Jack glanced back at the couch. His brothers were hidden from view and he was hesitant but he sighed anyway. "Hold on one second." He muttered softly, before he quietly shut the door, undoing the chain that held the door shut and reopening it, making sure there was no way the door would lock if he shut it. He opened up the heavy door to find the boy still standing there a kind smile on his face and Jack gently shut the door, noticing that the kid, David, was trying to catch a glimpse inside the house from over Jack's shoulder. The boy chose to pretend he didn't notice and instead asked, "Can I help ya with somethin'?" He crossed his arms and leaned, casually, against the closed door.

The tall boy shook his head, as if to remember why'd he'd been there. "Uh, I'm sorry to bother you but my folks and my brother and I were eating breakfast this morning and we, uh," Jack shook his head. Folks. Breakfast. Luxuries that he couldn't quite grasp. "Well, we heard some yelling." He finally finished. "My father sent me over to see if everything was ok..."

Jack scoffed and shook his head before smirking. "Yeah I'm sorry about that, Davey." He apologized. "My, uh," Jack forced himself to say it, scratching his nose with his thumb, hoping the other kid wouldn't look too much into this. "My foster dad has no idea what the word quiet means." He quickly stated, nervously laughing as he spoke. But when the boy looked at him, as if he was expecting more, Jack sighed. "Listen, if you guys are gonna be livin' in that apartment," he nodded in the direction of the apartment that he knew had been empty only a few days ago, "You're gonna have ta just ignore everything that ya hear from in here. It's not what ya think it is." He tried, so desperate to get this boy to leave. He hoped that this kid wouldn't look too much into it. But sadly, he was wrong.

"And what is it that we think it is?" He asked, taking a step towards Jack, his eyes questioning the boy more than his voice.

Jack scoffed and shrugged. He untucked one of his hands from his crossed arms and started speaking, moving his hand up and down with his words. "Look Dave," His voice was low and he looked around the hall to make sure no one would hear him. "Ya seem like a nice kid. But I'll tell ya right now, ta survive in this side of Manhattan, mindin' your own business is key." He finished, once again folding his arms over his chest.

David stood there for a moment, not quite knowing what to say. The statement didn't come off as rude. The boy's tone came off as something hard to identify. Something he could only identify as protective. So he shrugged and spoke again. "I'm sorry for bothering ya..." The boy stopped, realizing he'd never gotten the other kid's name.

Jack nodded, understanding. "Jack. Jack Kelly." He extended his hand and Davey shook it, nodding.

"Jack." He repeated. "Again, I'm sorry about the intrusion. We were just a little worried is all." Jack nodded, looking at the ground rather than the boy's eyes. "Listen, Jack, if you ever need anything... we're just next door." David finished, awkwardly, scratching his head.

Jack smiled and lifted his green eyes up to meet the light brown ones of the boy he'd just met. He had a genuine look of gratefulness on his face. "Thanks Davey." He smirked as the boy laughed at the nickname he had given him.

"Sure Jack." Davey clasped his shoulder before walking down the hall to his door and entering his apartment.

Jack sighed. He sadly pushed the door open and re-entered the apartment. That was just what they needed. Nosy neighbors. Crap.


	4. Chapter 4

It was eight PM. All three boys sat awake, around the apartment, in silence. Jack was sitting at the single, small, round table with the single chair. In his right hand, he held a small pencil that had clearly been broken in half if the ridged end and missing eraser had anything to say about it. Every few minutes he'd glance up at the couch, watching his brothers for a minute, and then his eyes would slowly return to the old sketch book on the table.

Race sat upright on the far right of the couch. With one hand, he played with his little brother's hair and with the other he tapped anxiously on the arm of the couch. There was a take out bag at his feet, crumbled up, empty. He kicked at it, bored and was ready at any moment to kick it under the couch as quickly as he could. On his left, Crutchie was laying with his head on Race's hip. The older boy had his elbow resting on Crutchie's shoulder while his hand combed through the fourteen year olds soft, blond hair. The younger boy laid on his back, a book in his hands that rested against his knees. On the coffee table that sat in front of the couch were a box of tissues that Crutchie would grab at every few minutes and wipe at his nose with before disposing them in the empty bag that his older brother kicked at.

Jack knew what was coming. He tried to think of anyway out of it. To stop the inevitable, but found he couldn't. So he just sat there while he could. Enjoying the peaceful moment while he could. And then it was suddenly broken. The door swung open and Race immediately kicked the take out bag under the couch and out of sight. Jack closed his sketch book and slid it underneath the cushion of the chair he'd previously occupied before rising up and moving to his two little brothers. He slipped the broken pencil into his pocket and grabbed Crutchie's book from him, shoving it into a drawer of the coffee table almost silently. Neither boy on that couch flinched, as if they'd done this one hundred times. Then Jack sat on the left arm of the couch waiting for what was to come. But what he wasn't expecting, what none of them were expecting, was for two pairs of footsteps to enter the room.

"Beer?" One voice asked. The old man from earlier.

"What do ya think?" The other answered. His voice was not as rough as the first. It had a higher pitch to it and held a certain level of sarcasm. Jack sighed.

"Weasel." He muttered under his breath. He closed his eyes and tried his best to keep himself calm. If not for his own sake, for the sake of his brothers.

"Well what do we have here?" The second man, Weasel, asked when his eyes landed on the three boys on the couch. He rounded to the front of them and laughed at the way they were huddled on the couch together.

"Oh that reminds me." The old man's gruff voice spoke and Jack saw Crutchie grab Race's hand that had been running through his hair. Jack stood carefully, silently and then sat down on the couch, in front of Crutchie's torso. The foster father came back into the room and set down two beer bottles on the coffee table and turned to the boys. "This one," He pointed to Race. "Was talking back to me this morning." He said.

Weasel glared at the poor boy who didn't look up to meet their eyes. "Well, looks like these boys need to be taught a lesson." The man looked around for a moment, before whispering to the other. "Ya want me ta fill up the tub?"

Jack scooted closer to Race and put an arm out in front of him. He knew what was about to happen and he couldn't quite contain his panic. But the foster father smirked and nodded, letting Weasel walk to the bathroom, where water was turned on and had begun to run.

Race's eyes widened. He looked up and his eyes locked with Jack's. He saw no less fear in the other boy's eyes than he felt surging through his thin body. "No." Jack's voice was breathless and terrified. "Please no. Take me instead. Do whatever ya want but leave him alone." Jack looked up at the man, ignoring his little brother's small pleas to stop it. Jack saw the man's smirk turn into a laugh and he felt a fire burn inside him.

"You are somethin', Kelly." He laughed. "But your brother is the one that needs to learn to keep his stupid mouth shut." He explained before stepping closer to the three of them and making a grab for Race. But Jack stood up fast and challenged the man, their faces inches apart. The man's anger grew by the second. "You really want some of this, boy?" He spat, glancing over for only a second as his friend returned to the room.

Jack was so angry he could've been sick. "I don't care what ya do ta me, Spider." Jack shot back, bitting the last word like it was a poison. "But if you hurt my brothers, I don't care what it takes, I will destroy you." Jack's face was shifted into anger as he spoke to the man he hated so much.

Crutchie and Race sat on the couch in terrified silence. Race held Crutchie so close to him as he watched the scene unfolding in front of them. Crutchie had sat up when Jack got closer to the man and Race had to hold him back by wrapping his arms around the boy's waist and keep him from doing something stupid. All they could do was watch as the man sneered at Jack.

"You think that you'll be able to take them in when you turn eighteen?" The man barked a laugh and shook his head. "The system might consider it. But if their guardian of four years goes in and says that you can't handle that, who do you think they'll listen to, huh?" He roughly hit Jack's chest with both his hands, forcing the boy to take a step back.

Jack's face quickly turned from one of intense anger to one of a scared, shocked boy who didn't quite know what to do. His eyes widened and he forced himself not to glance back at the two boys that were his reason to live. "You wouldn't." It wasn't a statement. It was more of a plea. His voice shook a little and he felt his hatred for this man grow as he laughed at Jack's floundering.

"If there's one thing you should know by now, Jack," The man clipped off the name like it was nothing. "It's that if you cross me, I will take everything you care about, everything you love, and crush it." He smirked again as Jack didn't have a comeback. Then he nodded to the boys on the couch. "Now move." He ordered, gruffly.

Jack's face returned to its defiance and he pushed the man back, the same way the man had before. "No." He breathed, dangerously.

"Jack-"

Jack put up his hand, signaling Race to stop. He hated the way the boy sounded so damn scared. Scared that this man would actually ruin their future and sabotage their family. "You can say anythin' ya want ta any judge in the world but it doesn't matter how hard I have ta fight, how far I have ta run I will get my brothers. Ya can't keep 'em from me, Snyder. I will always find them." Jack spat at him, furious. "No matter what you do, you will lose. And I will always be the one standing here, between you and my brothers." Jack's voice was, unexpected to him, confident.

Snyder's smirk faded and he became angry. "You made a mistake, Kelly." And then hell broke loose. The old man grabbed Jack by the collar and threw him to the ground making a lunge for the two boys on the couch. He wasn't expecting the boy to jump on his back and wrap an arm around his throat. He clawed at the kid's upper arm but found he was having trouble breathing.

Jack had him. He could've knocked him out and then he could've gotten his brothers out and away from this awful place. Away from everything. But he forgot. Forgot about the other man. Weasel. Jack heard Crutchie scream and looked up before he felt a hand on the back of his neck. He felt it squeeze and he suddenly felt his strength giving way. He was pulled from the man and thrown to the ground, luckily landing on his feet before he saw the Spider in front of him and had no time to react before the man's fist made contact with his left eye.

Crutchie jumped when he heard Jack scream and it took Race holding him back for him to stay put. He watched as two men hovered over his brother, kicking him in the gut and in the head. He had to listen to his brother cry out in pain while his other brother held him still. Crutchie knew Race was trying to control the fact that he was shaking, holding back tears of anger and pure fear.

Once they were done with Jack, they advanced on the two younger kids. Snyder stepped to them first but Race quickly sat in front of his baby brother, shielding him for all of a second before Snyder socked him on the same cheek he had this morning, causing the already forming bruise to shoot pain through the boy's head. He fell to the ground holding the painful spot on his face before Snyder kicked him in the chest.

Weasel took over for Snyder, grabbing Race by his upper, left arm, and forcing him to his feet, ignoring Jack's cries, Jack's pleas for them to stop.

Snyder watched as Race was dragged to the bathroom, screaming for help. He wasn't able to bring his legs underneath him all the way, causing him to literally be dragged. The boy fought hard but was thrown into the small room and his two brothers could only hear his screams.

Snyder stood over the youngest boy. He sneered at the kid who was cowering away from him. He grabbed the boy's right leg and the small kid screamed as he twisted his already bum leg. He was dragged off the couch and he screamed. He begged for help. He called out for his brothers but no one came running. He felt kicks to his stomach, his chest, his head, his arms and his leg was being thrown every which way. All he could do was scream. "Jack!" He cried. "Race!"

"Crutchie!" Jack screamed from his pathetic position on the ground, against the wall as he desperately tried to stand, to run to his brother's side, but was unable. He held himself around his burning, aching torso and was forced to listen to the screams. His eyes became heavy and suddenly he was somewhere else. Outside somewhere where there were cop cars and an ambulance. There was a woman, on a stretcher inside , but she wasn't hooked up to machines of any kind and the paramedics were sadly shaking their heads.

Jack heard Race's screams become younger and he looked another way to see a young boy with the brightest, teary, blue eyes and curly blond hair being shoved into a police car. He watched as the car pulled away and his heart ached as the boy turned in the seat and started pounding on the back window, screaming for help. Then Crutchie's screams became sobs and he looked around one more time to see a small boy with a crutch under his arm, being lifted up and dragged away from him. He was calling out for someone to stop this.

This was wrong. Jack knew it. It was wrong. Three little boys. All they had was each other. All they knew was each other. They weren't ready to be thrown into a cruel world, alone and unprotected. But all Jack could hear were screams as his world went black.

Race fought and he fought hard. The poor kid was forced to his knees in the middle of the bathroom the man's arms were around him, making it nearly impossible to stand up. He screamed for someone to help him but Weasel grabbed his hands and some duck tape from under the bathroom sink and, once his hands were behind his back, Race was powerless to stop it. He hated to admit that, as strong as he was and as hard as he fought, these guys were stronger than him. As he cried for help, Weasel put a hand over his mouth and laughed as he tried to struggle out of the grip.

Race's first instinct was to bite the man. But he knew in the long run, it would only make things worse. So he settled for trying to struggle his hands out of the tape. Sadly, he knew he was stuck when Snyder walked in and all he heard from the other room was silence. His innocent blue eyes looked up at his hated guardian and the man laughed when he saw that Racetrack was past terrified.

Race tried to hide it but found even he couldn't convince himself that he wasn't petrified in the moment when his brothers were silent and he was stuck in a room with two mad men, a tub full of water and no way to get out.

He struggled hard when Snyder forced him to face the tub. Weasel's hand was no longer over his face, so he screamed. For anyone. He just wanted anyone to come running. But Snyder quickly quieted him by shoving his head into the ice cold water.

Crutchie heard the muffled screams. It lasted for about a minute before he heard the coughs and gasps of air for a few seconds. Then it started all over again. He heard Snyder laughing and Weasel egging him on. He felt the bile rising in his throat as these men took pleasure from this torture. He tried to cry out for his brother. Either of them, but found himself too weak. His bones ached from being sick and being beaten, so Crutchie finally gave up and let the darkness take him, hoping he'd wake up to the arms of the only two people he cared about.

Race was sure he would drown. He was sure he'd never see his brothers again. He'd never get to turn eighteen, or leave the system or be with Jack and Crutchie and be happy. His life was gonna end right there. He stopped screaming when he started seeing black spots. He almost let it happen, if not for the pull on his neck that allowed him oxygen.

He sputtered, coughing like crazy, hunched over on himself, desperately trying to shield himself from being pushed under again. Race hated water. And there was a reason for it. But, once more, they grabbed him by the back of his shirt. He gasped and cried as they picked him up off the ground and threw his whole body into the freezing liquid. It was so cold, Race could hardly move. They held him down as he fought for the surface, even under water crying out for Jack. It was when Race's vision was almost completely black that they decided to pull him back up.

They let him collapse on the ground, gasping for needed air. They let him enjoy his ten seconds of glory before Snyder ripped off a strip of duck tape, smoothing it over the boy's mouth, causing him to go into a state of panic. Race kicked at the men but they caught him and dragged him by his ankles through the house. Down the short hallway was a closet. It wasn't a big one, but it did lock from the outside.

Race hadn't noticed that there were tears streaming down his face due to all the water that was there. But he saw his foster father open the door to the closet at the end of the hall. It had a few coats in it but other than that it was pretty empty. He shook his head, pleading with the men through the gag to not do this. To just leave them alone but they just laughed and threw him inside, locking the door before they walked away leaving a screaming, terrified boy behind.

Crutchie woke up to darkness. He blinked a few times in a panic, thinking for a moment he was blind before he looked down to his left to see a thin line of light trailing in through a crack in the bottom of a door of some kind. He moved around a bit, feeling the ground but he realized his crutch was not in the room with him. He heard rapid breathing that was not his own. The boy tried to move around again and when he moved his leg he lightly kicked another.

"Race..." Crutchie breathed, somewhat in relief. As his eyes adjusted, he was able to make out Race's heaving form. The older boy's head was leaning up against the door and his legs were bent in front of him. His arms were behind his back and Crutchie realized that the boy must be bound somehow. He saw the tears glistening on his cheeks from panicking and he saw them run over the smooth grey strip over his mouth.

When the younger boy tried to move, he realized how much everything hurt. He groaned and let himself rest for a moment before beginning to crawl towards his brother. The older boy looked at him and shook his head, knowing that he must be hurting, but Crutchie continued anyway and grabbed his brother's bound wrists in his hands. He peeled off the tape and his brother's hands immediately went to the tape over his mouth.

Crutchie slumped against the back wall, breathing hard. Everything hurt. He waited patiently for Race to finish and couldn't be more relieved when Race pulled him into his embrace. Though, Crutchie realized, Race was ice cold and shaking.

"C-Crutchie." Race whispered, relief flooding through him. The younger boy didn't know what else to do but to collapse into his big brother's embrace. He felt Race press a light, brotherly kiss to his forehead and start rocking back and forth before he even realized he'd been crying. He let Race rest his chin in his own mess of hair and they sat there, quietly sniffling and wiping away tears. Waiting for someone to find them.

Jack's whole body screamed in pain when he tried to roll over. His eyes slowly slid open and he looked around, carefully. It was very dark, most likely only an hour or two after he passed out. Snyder and Weasel were no where to be seen. But at the moment, Jack didn't care. Despite the pain that shot through his beaten body, he pushed himself to his feet. "Crutchie?!" He cried looking around, praying for some sort of response. "Racetrack!" He tried. But the apartment remained quiet. Or so he thought before he heard something knocking.

Jack followed the sound. It was a steady beat, coming from the back of the small apartment. He silently walked to back of the short hallway and seethed when he found where it was coming from. Jack sat on his knees in front of the closet door. "Race?" He called, gently.

"Jack!"

Jack heard shuffling from the other side of the door after he heard Crutchie's relieved voice. He heard Race gently speak. "Slow down Crutch. Sit still. Your leg still ain't right." It was incredibly hard to hear but Jack strained his ears to be able to listen to his brothers on the other side.

Jack tried to calm himself down by taking a deep breath. He leaned his head against the locked door that stood between him and his brothers. "Are you guys alright?" The oldest boy sighed. His response was silence.

Race leaned his head up against the door. He hugged his little brother closer to his left side and sighed. Then he asked, nervously. "Are you alright?"

Jack shook his head. He wanted so desperately to say yes. To continue to trick his two baby brothers into thinking he was invincible and would always be around to protect them, but he couldn't. "I-I'm gonna get you guys outta there." He promised, opting to not answer Race's question.

"You've got all night." Race said, wiping away the tears from his little brother's scared face. "The Spider won't be back till tomorrow. Told me when he threw Crutchie in here that he... uh..." Race sniffled. He looked down at his brother's face and sadly finished. "He wanted you to know what it would be like when your eighteen. Said he wouldn't be back till tomorrow."

Jack growled. He never knew that he could hold such hate for someone. Jack could take the abuse. He had. Multiple times. What he couldn't take was the way he was forced to hear his brothers' screams. The way he was forced to watch as they were beaten right in front of him and there was nothing he could do to stop it. Just as Jack reached for the door handle, to try anything to open the door, a knock was heard. It was the same knock he'd heard earlier that day. And Jack sighed.

"Stay quiet." He instructed gently. "I'll be right back, I promise. Someone's at the door." He slowly moved from the door, wanting nothing more than to get his brothers out of there. But he had to deal with this first.

The knocking continued. It didn't stop until Jack cracked the door open to see Davey standing there, smile gone. He looked to be very concerned. When his eyes locked with Jack's, his worry seemed to grow. "Jack what the hell happened?!" Jack closed his eyes as the kid's shout, noticing for the first time how much his head hurt. When he closed his eyes, he realized there must be a pretty bad bruise forming around his left eye.

"Nothin'." Jack scoffed and then tried to shut the door. "Thanks for stoppin' by." But Davey put his hand on the door, preventing it from shutting.

"Your foster father screamin' at ya and then hittin' ya isn't nothin', Jack." David pointed out.

Jack looked up at the boy with wide eyes. "I don't know what you're talkin' about." He tried, but he knew it wasn't convincing enough as Davey laughed. It wasn't a humorous laugh, it was more of a laugh that told Jack he didn't believe him.

"Jack I heard him yellin'! I heard you screamin'! And some other kids too!" David sighed as Jack remained silent. He lowered his voice, but still spoke urgently, "I'm callin' the cops." He grabbed his cellphone from out of his pocket and started dialing in a number. But he was not prepared for Jack's response to that.

The door slammed shut and the chain was removed and before David could even register that the door had reopened, the phone had been snatched from his hand. "Hey! Jack!" Jack hung up the phone and held it out of his friend's reach.

"You ain't callin' no one!" Jack yelled. "I told ya ta mind your own business." David heard Jack, but he let his eyes wander to behind the boy. Jack stood in the center of the wide open door but Davey could still see around him. The apartment looked to be a decent size. But things were thrown everywhere and there were new red stains on the carpet.

Without any invitation, Davey pushed past Jack and into the apartment. "Jack, who are you protecting?!" He yelled as he got a look inside. Things were broken and the place was just a full on mess. But the thing that caught his attention the most was a crutch, disregarded on the ground next to the couch. He crouched down and picked it up, only to have it snatched from his hand by the other boy.

"What the hell do ya think your doin'?" Jack asked, angry at the boy for completely ignoring him. "This ain't none of your business!"

"If you don't tell me what's going on right now, I will call the cops." David challenged. He didn't know why, but he felt compelled to help. This boy was clearly in some kind of trouble. "Who are you protecting?" The boy asked from his position on the ground. Jack stood in front of him shaking his head, angrily.

"Ya wouldn't understand." He explained, his voice losing its natural confident touch. He looked down at the crutch and wiped at the tears that threatened to fall from his eyes.

David sighed in sympathy. He stood and placed his hand on Jack's shoulder, gently. "Try me."

Jack looked up into the boy's light brown eyes. Trust was never something that had come easy to him. He couldn't afford to just throw it around like it was nothing. But there was something about this boy. He seemed to be so understanding and Jack found himself asking, "Can you pick a lock?"


	5. Chapter 5

Jack paced the small width of the hall. His right hand was up to his mouth and his left arm was held in front of the his stomach. He watched anxiously as his new friend sat on his knees in front of the closet door. He held two pins, one in each hand as he picked at the lock. On the ground next to him, his smartphone was open to an instructions page.

"What's behind this door that's so damn important Jack?" Davey asked as he worked at the knob.

"Please just unlock it, Davey. Please." Jack got out, rushed. "You said you was home alone right?" He asked, not wanting someone else to call anyone.

"Yeah Jack." David reassured. "My parents took my kid brother to our grandma's house. They won't be back till tomorrow night." He continued to jiggle the lock. "Would you please tell me what's going on now?"

Jack watched as the boy's hands dropped down and he set aside the pins. "You did it?" He only saw Davey start to nod before he pushed the boy aside, not too hard, but hard enough to make the boy cry out in surprise. Jack threw the door open.

"Jack!"

Jack scooped up his youngest brother off the ground and held him close, making sure he held most of his weight as the small boy had only one leg to balance on. He had one arm around the boy's lower back and his other hand held the back of the boy's neck. They stayed there for a moment before he moved Crutchie to the wall so he had something to lean on and he grabbed the other boy's hand.

Race had trouble standing and fell into his big brother's embrace. He realized how much he actually hurt and how much his near drowning experience had affected him. He heard Jack's shaky breaths in his ear and held onto him tight, his teeth chattering in Jack's ears. "'M sorry... I'm so sorry Race..."

Race buried his head in Jack's shoulder as he shivered. Jack helped Crutchie back to them and the three brothers just stood there. Jack whispered his apologies and his brothers sobbed against him. But the oldest forgot about the other boy in the room.

"Jack..." He breathed, astonished. Immediately, Race pulled back, surprised at the new voice in the room. He looked at the other boy on the ground, up and down.

"Who are you?" He asked, his voice higher than normal and jumping at odd moments. Jack placed a hand on his shoulder, letting him know it was ok. The older boy let Crutchie lean on Race while he offered David a hand, pulling him to his feet.

"Calm down, Race." Jack clasped the taller boy on the shoulder. "This is Davey. He lives next door and he just wanted to help." He explained. "Davey, this is Racetrack and Crutchie." He gestured to each boy, respectively. David nodded and looked at the two boys and smiled, though the tears streaming down both of their faces were enough to break his heart. He watched as one of them, Racetrack Jack called him, wiped at his eyes, clearing the tears from his face before he shivered and Crutchie wrapped an arm around his back.

"Race?" Jack asked, concerned, moving back to his brother's side.

"He's freezing cold, Jack." Crutchie barely caught his older brother as he started falling to the ground, but he just ended up bringing them both to their knees. Jack was down on the ground in seconds. "They must've used ice cold water again."

"'M fine..." Race mumbled, but he sneezed and started shaking. Jack wrapped his arms around the smaller boy and ran his hands up and down his arms, trying to warm him up.

"You and I have different definitions of 'fine', Race." Crutchie teased. He looked around and saw his crutch on the other side of the hall, immediately crawling for it before the other boy, Davey, handed it to him. "Thanks Davey." The young boy nodded gratefully and pushed himself to his feet, gently pushing his crutch under his arm, hoping Jack didn't see him wincing.

"Crutch, where does it hurt?" Jack asked, watching his youngest brother carefully. The blond boy sighed and shook his head.

"It doesn't matter, Jack. We need ta warm up Race." Crutchie stated, his natural confidence shining through, something he no doubt got from Jack. But, as he tried to walk away, his good leg shook and he would've fallen on the floor, face first, if it wasn't for Davey catching him around the waist.

"Crutchie!" Race called out from his place, tucked into Jack's chest. The youngest boy groaned as Davey helped him to the ground.

"Crutch, where does it hurt the most?" Jack asked again, watching as the kid avoided his gazes.

Crutchie shook his head and let out a breath before looking up at his big brother. "My leg. And my head." He answered finally. Jack nodded before asking Davey to take the fourteen year old to the couch.

Davey helped the gimp boy over to the couch and let him sit before walking back over to Jack. He watched as Race closed his eyes and how his teeth chattered and how he leaned himself into Jack's embrace for warmth. These kids were miserable. "How can you tell me not to call the police? You guys are clearly hurt!"

Jack shook his head but he was too late. Race sat up in a panic. "Cops?" He asked, terrified.

"No Race. We ain't callin' the cops." Jack soothed, letting his brother relax back into him. Then he looked up to Davey and shook his head, telling him without words to not bring that up again. Jack scooped up his kid brother in his arms, one arm under his knees and the other beneath his back. Race didn't even seem to notice.

They laid Race down on the couch, resting his head on Crutchie's lap. Jack grabbed the blanket from their bedroom and gently smoothed it over Race's body. Crutchie sat there running a hand through the freezing boy's hair, wincing every now and again. Jack grabbed some ice for Crutchie's head, which apparently had been hit hard. Davey went to his apartment and brought both boys back some hot chocolate to sip on. After a few minutes of just sitting together, Jack got up to grab Race a sweatshirt and Davey followed him into the back bedroom.

"Alright Jack," David shut the door and crossed his arms, leaning against it so Jack had to talk to him. "What's going on. Why no cops?"

Jack grabbed one of his sweatshirts and turned to see Davey blocking his exit. "I already told ya, ya wouldn't understand." He said, flatly, walking towards the door, but Davey didn't move.

"You're right." Davey shrugged. "I don't understand why you would put yourself and those kids in constant danger. Clearly you care about them so why do this ta them? If ya call the cops they'll put you in different homes, better homes!" Davey tried to reason but Jack started to get angry. Not necessarily at Davey, but at things that happened in the past.

"You said ya got a kid brother?" Jack asked, stepped closer to Davey, looking very intimidating all the sudden.

"So?" Davey asked, shrugging, not knowing how that was relevant at all.

"So," Jack mocked. "Imagine that somethin' happened ta your folks. They're gone, not there ta take care of ya anymore." Jack cut Davey off as he tried to interrupt. "It's just you and your brother now. Some people show up and say that it ain't a good idea ta keep you two together so now you've gotta say goodbye." Jack felt himself choking up as he tried to force out these words. It was still painful to think about. "And it don't matter how tight ya hold onta each other. It don't matter that each otha is all you've ever had, they rip you apart and you gotta watch your baby brother be dragged away, screamin' for ya ta help him. But ya can't. So you watch them drive away with him in the back, pounding on the glass window, cryin' for ya."

Davey realized how much Jack spoke with his hands. He realized that Jack spoke with his hands when he was worried or scared about something. When he thought Jack was done, he tried to calm him down. "Jack I had no id-"

Jack put his hand up, silencing Davey. "Then, about two later ya find him. He's on the streets. He can't walk he's hurt so bad. He starvin' and hasn't had a proper meal in weeks. Or ya accidentally run into him while he's runnin' from folks who are tryin' ta beat him and leave him for dead. And you are together again, finally." Jack's voice started to even out as he told this part. "This time, ya fight harder and they let ya be together. But they put ya with a very specific, very powerful guardian and ya know that, one slip up, one wrong move!" Jack yelled, and Davey flinched. "And that's it. He's gone forever."

David cursed at himself, silently, he should've seen it before. "They're your brothers." He sighed, looking down before meeting Jack's eyes.

"Half brothers." Jack clarified. "We're all bastards. Our fathers might be alive but we've never met 'em. So we were raised by our mother." He sighed. "And damn it, I'd do anythin' for 'em." Jack blinked back the tears. "They're all I've got." The sappiness quickly faded and the anger returned. "You call the cops and this is all over. I lost 'em once and it ain't happenin' again." Jack vowed.

Davey stood in shock. He let Jack push past him and go out to the two boys on the couch.

Jack walked up to his brother to find Race falling asleep to Crutchie's soothing voice. He was reading out of his book, very slowly. He also saw that his youngest brother's eyes were struggling to stay open. His voice was becoming heavy and Jack slid the book from his hands and gently set it on the table.

Davey watched from his position, leaning against the doorframe, as Jack smiled at his brothers. Crutchie let out a tired mumble as Jack took his book from him. He saw how Jack carefully lifted up Race and slipped him into a sweatshirt then set him back down. He watched how Jack tucked the blanket around both boys and how he kissed the bruise on Crutchie's head, the boy responding with an exhausted smile.

When Jack was done settling his brothers, he walked back over to Davey. "Thank you." He whispered, smiling as he looked back over to his brothers.

"Of course, Jackie." Davey nodded, patting Jack's arm.

Jack cleared his throat, awkwardly and straightened up before speaking again. "Look, uh..." He took a breath. "Why don't you, uh... stay here tonight." The boy suggested, with a shrug.

Davey nodded. "It's better than bein' home alone." He shrugged.

Jack nodded. "Thanks." The boy sighed again. "I don't know what I would've done without your help." Jack looked back at the couch and sighed before walking to the kitchen and pulling something out from underneath the single chair cushion.

"What's that?" Davey asked, taking a seat on the creaky old chair next to the couch. He watched as Jack brought some sort of book with him, the thing he pulled out of the chair, and sat on the ground. He leaned up against the couch, below Race's feet and opened it up, taking the broken pencil out of his pocket. He placed the book comfortably on his legs that were pulled up, almost to his chest. He opened up deep into the pages and then spoke.

"This is a sketchbook." Jack explained with a smile, his pencil running over the paper bringing him genuine pleasure. "Before my thirteenth birthday, I told Crutchie that I liked ta draw." He laughed at the memory. "He told Race and they saved up some money so they could get me this." Davey smiled when he saw the happiness on Jack's face when he talked about it. "They were so excited about it." He laughed.

"I know what you mean." Davey smiled. He scooted forward on the chair. "My little brother, Les," He clarified. "Made me one of those little coupon books." He laughed. "Ya know the ones that say, free hug coupon or the one day without talking back coupon." David smiled. "It took him a week ta make it. He gave it ta me on my sixteenth birthday. He was only nine. He was so excited for me ta use them." Jack laughed and continued to sketch. Then Davey had another question. "What about that pencil? Was that a gift too?" He asked, curious as to why he was using a small broken pencil and not one that was in good shape.

Jack looked down at the pencil in his hand and sighed. "When I was, uh... fourteen, our foster dad saw me drawing something on a napkin. Nothin' much, just ya know... a bunch of trees." Jack shrugged, recalling the picture of a place he dreamed of each night. "So he snatched the pencil outta my hand and snapped it in half. He said that even if I worked forever, I would never be half as good as any real artist." Jack scoffed, that awful day forever engraved in his head. "So I ran out, takin' Race and Crutchie with me. We ran ta one of our mother's old, old friends. And she told me that if I ever put down the pencil, ta forget about ever achieving somethin' in life. It would be my first step ta endin' up a quitter."

David watched Jack look back at his two sleeping brothers' peaceful faces. "She said that if I held onto the pencil, one day I'd prove him wrong. One day I could take the pencil and say 'thanks for being the asshole who motivated me never ta quit' right in his stupid, arrogant face." Jack finished. "So I never lost the pencil." He smiled.

Davey smiled. Then he reached out his hand, "May I?" He asked politely. Jack looked down at the page he'd been using, hesitant, but eventually he shrugged and handed his treasured book over to the other boy.

Davey took it, gratefully and looked it over, gasping, in awe, at what he saw. It was a beautiful picture, all in black and white. There were two boys in it, naturally. They stood tall, smiling and laughing. Like it should be. The taller one with the short, curly hair, on the left from Davey's perspective, definitely Race, had his arms around the younger boy. His right hand was on the smaller boy's right shoulder and his left arm was wrapped around the kid's shoulders. His features were lit up and Davey found himself smiling at the boy's happiness. Race's gaze was soft and warm and loving and his head was turned to look at the younger kid who was leaning on a crutch.

Crutchie was leaning to his right, onto his crutch that stood in between him and his brother. More than that, he leaned into his brother. His natural smile warmed Davey's heart. His features were soft and he looked forward yet down at the ground. His hair was covered by a beanie that warmed the boy's head.

Both boys were dressed warm. Race wore a leather jacket over a sweatshirt that was zipped up to cover some sort of t-shirt. The hood of the sweatshirt stuck out, over the jacket. Crutchie was snug in a warm looking peak coat that cut off at his hips. His neck was covered by a scarf. Both of them were cut off at the knees at the bottom of the picture.

They looked so happy. It was refreshing. Davey knew he'd only literally just met them, but he could take a guess that the boys didn't get to behave like that very often. And he could guess that they didn't have warm clothes like that for the upcoming storms of Manhattan.

They looked to be walking down the middle of the street. They were surrounded by buildings and people. Everyone else in the picture had their backs turned to them, walking away or entering a shop or workplace, except for one. A woman. She looked oddly familiar. It took Davey a while to figure out why. But he looked back and forth between her and the two boys in the picture and then at Jack.

She was all clad up in a lovely dress and cloak. The dress stopped just above her knees, showing off her legs almost as well as the heels she was wearing. The cloak covered her arms and chest and most of her head, but her wavy hair still flowed, falling perfectly around her beautiful features. Her body was turned as if she was about to open up a door and go inside but her face was what Davey focused on the most.

Her smile was the same one that was worn so proudly on Crutchie's face, the one that brought warmth to everyone who saw it. Her loving eyes were the same ones that Race had as he smiled at his brother. And there was this spark about her. A passion as she gazed upon the two boys in the center of the picture. It reminded him so much of Jack.

"She's beautiful." Davey whispered, smiling up at Jack. The other boy scoffed.

"What are ya talkin' about?" He asked, quietly, trying to play off the fact that there was more to the picture than meets the eye.

"You know damn well, Jack." Davey smiled. "You guys all have a part of her with you." He almost missed the way Jack smiled at that. But he caught it. Then he looked over the drawing again, before handing it back to his friend. "They look so happy."

Jack chuckled a bit and ran a hand over the page. "Yeah..." He sighed, happily. "They ain't always like this, ya know." Jack pointed behind him to the couch. "Crutchie is the most optimistic person I've ever met and Race," Jack smiled, "Race can make a joke no matter the situation. Always loves ta make everyone laugh."

Davey smiled at his new friend. He looked up on the couch to see the two younger brothers. "Tell me about them." Davey suggested and Jack hesitated for only a second before launching himself into stories about his world. His brothers.

Eventually, the two boys passed out of exhaustion. But they slept, oblivious to the nightmare that was coming.

 


	6. Chapter 6

Jack opened his eyes slowly and looked around. He groaned quietly when he saw the mess that was around him. A mess that couldn't be seen by the man that had caused them so much pain. There were mugs on the coffee table that had previously been filled with hot chocolate. There were blankets all over from where he'd slept, where Davey was sleeping on the chair and where they were spread over his two brothers. His sketch book lay on the floor, open to the same page from the previous night and Crutchie's book still lay on the table.

Jack sighed and pushed himself to his feet, ignoring the soreness of his body as he started to clean up what he could without waking anyone up. He washed the cups, hid away his sketches and did everything he could do before he looked up at the old, run down microwave clock. His heart stopped for a moment as he stared at the time and then back at his family. 7:53.

Jack ran back out into the living room, sitting gently on the edge of the couch, careful not to startle anyone, before he started to slowly shake Racetrack out of his dreams and into reality. The poor kid's skin was still cold to the touch and the temperature of the apartment wasn't doing them any favors. "Race..." Jack whispered, harshly, trying to get the kid to wake up. "Race!" He tried again and was immediately filled with guilt when the boy's icy blue eyes slowly slid opened and met his.

The kid's eyes were tired and confused. When they opened all the way and took a look around, Race shivered and pulled the blanket closer around his body. "It's cold..." He mumbled, closing his eyes again.

Jack shook his head as he watched his brother's eyes slip closed again. "Race, it's almost eight!" The older boy whispered, urgently. That seemed to get a response out of the younger boy. Maybe not a good one, but a response none the less.

Race's eyes shot back open. He sat up in a hurry but the pain from the previous night shot through his body. He felt Jack's arms around him as an ice cold chill was sent through his body. The older boy held his arms around Race's shoulders. The boy shivered and leaned into his big brother's touch. "It's so cold, Jack." He whispered into his brother's ear. He rested his head in the crook of Jack's neck as he held him.

"I know, kid." Jack sighed, sadly as he rubbed his hands up and down the kid's back, trying to warm him up a bit. "I know." He repeated, the memories of the previous night filling up in his mind, the guilt of what happened filling up in him right along with it. "But we're gonna get you somewhere warm." He promised.

Crutchie gasped as the weight lifted from his lap. His green eyes opened in a rush as he frantically looked around for his family. When he saw them, his panic lessened and he sat up and scooted closer to his brothers, trying to reassure himself that they were all still there. Together.

Jack looked up at his youngest brother. The boy looked a little but frazzled. His hair was a mess and his eyes were a bit wider than they should be. The young blond boy appeared to be scared to say anything, so Jack loosened his grip on his shivering brother and, gently, scooted both of them closer to Crutchie. Immediately, the boy's worry seemed to melt away as Race grabbed his hands and guided them around his torso so that the gimp could rest comfortably against his back.

Jack wished he could stay like that for a while longer. Just holding his poor brothers and making sure their fears were chased away by the trust they had in him, but, sadly, Jack had to let go and stand up. "Fellas, we gotta go." He said in a rush as he moved over to the chair that Davey had been sleeping in. Carefully, he kneeled down next to him, placing a gentle hand on the taller teen's shoulder. "Davey." He whispered, shaking the sleeping kid with as little force necessary. The boy stirred but Jack looked back at the clock. 7:58. "Davey!" Jack finally yelled, successfully getting his friend's eyes to shoot open as he sat up.

"What the hell, Jack?" Davey whispered as he frantically stood to his feet. He looked around at the room and immediately regretted his decision to move so quickly and harshly around the young boys. Race looked really tense as he wrapped his arms around Crutchie and the younger boy's eyes were opened wide, but after a moment, it looked like nothing had ever happened.

Crutchie watched as Race stood to his feet. He hastily made it to their empty bedroom and then was back before he could even say he'd been gone. He gave the boy a curious look and his heart hurt as he sat and watched his brother shiver when he made his way over to the window. Crutchie grabbed his crutch, that had somehow made it over to the side of the couch the night before and, slowly and painfully, limped his way over to his older brother as he slipped through the window and offered him his hand.

"Jack what's going on?" Davey asked, curiously, as he watched the two little boys he'd help rescue the night before slip out into the cold morning of Manhattan. The other boy shook his head as his eyes made it back to the clock.

"I'll explain later." He promised. "Just go! We can't be here right now." He prompted. He all but pushed his new friend over to the window. Talk about making it at the last second. Jack forced Davey through the open window and then stepped out just in time to duck the four of them down as the door inside was heard, opening and then slamming shut. He heard an annoyed grumbling through the window and rolled his eyes. He then looked over his shoulder to his fifteen year old brother. He nodded to him and the younger boy repeated the movement before slipping back onto the latter of the fire escape.

Race grabbed his baby brother's hand and helped him onto his back as he began to make his way down to the ground. He let the younger boy's knees rest just above his hips and he let his arms clutch around his neck, the crutch dangling from his right hand. The fifteen year old ignored his shaking body as he made his way down the latter. His hands were going numb from the freezing touch of the metal and he could see his breath coming out cold. But his hurting brother was on his back. So he didn't stumble until Crutchie was on the ground, leaning up against the wall of the ally they'd landed in.

Jack had let his new friend start climbing down the latter before him. He knew that if the man caught him in there, things would go downhill, fast. But when he saw Crutchie being lowered to the ground, wincing as he finally made it, and Race trying to walk and stumbling over nothing, all he wanted was to be down with them.

Finally, they made it to the ground. Jack was at Race's side in a second. He put his arm around the younger boy's back and guided him, carefully, back over to Crutchie. The oldest of them pressed the back of his hand to his littlest brother's forehead, groaning as the boy's temperature must've gone up since the last time he'd checked.

"What's wrong?" Davey asked from behind them, leaning up against the latter, watching the scene in front of him. His heart clenched as Crutchie started coughing uncontrollably and the boy cried out in pain as his bruised bones screamed for him to

stop.

Race dropped to his knees beside their brother and ran a hand through his messy hair. "Crutchie breathe." He muttered as Jack grabbed the boy's shoulders to hold him still. "Please just breathe." He begged.

"He's been sick for a week now." Jack explained as the coughs started to die down a bit. Still, he scooped the fourteen year old up into his arms and rocked him back and forth a bit as he sniffled, the pain from the previous night ever so present in that moment. "Last night he was getting better. Then the Spider decided ta ruin that too." Jack explained, slowly trying to comfort his baby brother.

Davey carefully pushed himself off of the latter and walked over to the boys. He kneeled down next to Race, who was still playing with the younger boy's hair and placed a hand on the blue eyed kid's shoulder. He tried to ignore the fact that the boy jumped under his touch. "Where do you think you're gonna go?" The tall boy asked, gently.

"A friend of our mother's place." Jack answered, plainly as he stood, lifting up his baby brother in his arms and walking away, followed by a stumbling Racetrack.

Davey stood for a moment, dumbfounded. After a moment he just gave a sort of shrug and followed after them.

It took about a half an hour to walk all the way out there. Jack still held Crutchie up in his arms, despite the boy's protests to being carried the entire way there. Race's hand was on his big brother's arm, some might think it was for comfort, but it was clear in the way the boy swayed on his feet that he needed it for stability. He also carried the boy's crutch in his hand. And Davey's heart hurt for the little boys that no one even noticed as they walked down the street.

They made it all the way to the other side of Manhattan, to a large building. It looked to Davey to be a theatre. They walked in through the front door. So far, the place was basically empty. The foyer was open, and Davey gave Race, who was now walking beside him, a curious look as they just waltzed into the beautiful theatre without a second thought. The young gambler just nodded as he understood why Davey was so confused.

"Medda leaves the theatre open for us..." Race started, trying to figure out the right way to put it. "For all of us. She takes a lot of foster kids under her wing. We're all welcome here." He explained.

Davey nodded, but then a woman seemed to appear out of no where. She had a brilliant smile up on her face as her eyes fell on the boys that had wondered into the place. She wore very nice clothes and expensive looking jewelry that showed off her chocolate skin quite nicely. "Jack Kelly, where have you been?" She asked, strolling right up to the three boys. Her beautiful smile fell, however, when she saw Crutchie, falling asleep in his big brother's arms. "It's been a week, honey." She stated, lightly running a hand through the gimps hair.

Jack nodded, grimly. "Yeah..." He sighed, looking back at Race, making sure he was okay. The younger boy nodded and walked up next to his brother's, on Jack's left, right next to Crutchie's head. The youngest of them lay in his oldest brother's arms, trying to keep himself awake. His eyes would flutter open every few seconds, but the movement was getting fewer and farther between. Then Jack looked back up at the African American woman. "Crutchie's been sick for a week." He said, clutching the kid tighter, and allowing Race to run a hand through the fourteen year olds hair. "He's been too weak ta get over here. But I couldn't let 'em stay in that apartment any longer."

Davey shoved his hands in his pockets, awkwardly. He paced a little behind the three boys as they had their talk with this woman that he assumed was Medda.

"Well some of the other boys are in the house." Medda pointed to door that lead to the center of the building, skeptically looking over the three boys in the foyer. "Racetrack, its much warmer in there." She added, as she noticed the boy's shivering form. The small teen nodded and made his way over to the door, crossing his arms over his chest, the crutch he still held dangling from his hand. But when he got there, he turned, and waited for his brothers to join him.

Medda looked past Jack and Crutchie to the young man that was in her theater. The one she'd never seen before. "Who's your friend?" Medda asked in a hushed tone, wanting to let Crutchie get as much of a rest as he could in his condition.

Jack looked back, confused for a moment, before remembering that the boy had tagged along with them this morning. "Oh, that's Davey." Jack introduced, getting the taller boy's attention. The brunette then walked over to them, extending his hand. "Davey, this is Miss Medda Larkin, the finest actress and director you'll ever meet. She owns this place." Jack explained as the two shook hands.

"It's a pleasure to meet you Miss Larkin." Davey spoke, politely.

"Welcome to my theatre." The kind woman smiled and gestured to the door where Racetrack stood, waiting. "Just be careful." She added with a wink in Jack's direction. "Some of Jack's boys can get a little riled up."

Jack groaned. "How many of 'em are here?" He asked, looking down at his youngest brother and then over at his other one. Both of them were cold and miserable, and Jack wasn't sure if they could handle what was waiting on the other side of the door.

"Most of 'em. Maybe all of 'em." Medda replied, patting Jack's shoulder. "They've been worried about ya, baby." She clipped the boy's chin and then walked over to Race, wrapping an arm around him as she opened up the door that lead into the theatre. "Go let them know you're alright."

Jack nodded and looked at Davey before gently jerking his head in the direction of Medda and Race, following them inside. But Jack wasn't prepared for the loud voices that met his ears.

"Jack!"

"Race!"

"Is Crutchie okay?"

"Who's that guy?"

"Where have you guys been?"

Race was only overwhelmed for a second with the questions before another boy, only slightly taller than him, with bright red hair ran up to him and threw his arms around his waist, jokingly picking him up off the ground running him back to the doors that lead into the room. Race grunted at the impact, but then he looked up and saw two other boys behind him. There was another, same age as him, while the red head was at least a year older, with light brown hair and a giant smile on his face. He wore a baseball cap backwards on his head. And then the boy beside him was only about thirteen. He had dark hair and a small smile on his face and his dark eyes sparkled when they met Race's.

The red head set Race back on the ground, or dropped him back on the ground. But none the less, the boy was still smiling. "Where ya been Race?"

"Avoidin' you Albert." Race laughed, his sarcasm rolling off his tongue with such pleasure, most likely because he hadn't been able to joke around like that in a while.

The older boy chuckled and brought Racetrack back to him, ruffling his hair, laughing harder when the fifteen year old tried to struggle out of it and then he shoved him towards the two other boys.

"Hey Race!" The one with the light brown hair greeted, bringing his friend into his arms. "You alright? Ya look a little cold." He asked, concerned, but Race shook it off.

"I'm fine JoJo." He assured, quickly before kneeling down in front of the thirteen year old who was looking so happy to see him. "And how're you doin' Romeo? Still pickin' on all the girls?" He teased, ruffling the small boy's hair.

The boy, Romeo, swatted away the older boy's hand. "All the ladies love me. They just don't always know it." He said, confidently. And Race laughed.

"Sure kid."

Jack walked up to the stage, ignoring the twenty boys in the room that followed him and asked where the hell he'd been, why Crutchie looked so sick and why Race was shivering. He helped Crutchie sit on the edge of the stage. The boy looked a bit dazed, but when he fully opened his eyes, he saw all the boys looking at him, concerned and he smiled.

"Hey fellas." He greeted in a tired voice. A whole bunch of boys swarmed around the kid and some of them put hands on Jack's shoulders.

"Hey boys." Jack finally acknowledged them, bringing some of them into his embrace, spitting in his hand and then shaking some of the boys' hands. "Sorry for scaring you guys." He apologized as he leaned up against the stage where Crutchie sat. "It's just... been a rough week." He sighed, finally, crossing his arms over his chest as the room became quiet. "But we brought a new friend with us." Jack smiled and nodded to the boy who still stood in the back of the room, looking around, amazed at all these little boys.

Foster kids, Race had said. All of them. All of them needing a safe place to go. It was truly heartbreaking.

"Boys, meet Davey. He saved our butts last night." Jack smiled and suddenly Davey had a bunch of boys looking at him.

"Hi fellas." He waved, awkwardly, not quite knowing what to say. "Nice to meet ya."

Race and three of the other boys joined back into the group and many of them turned to hug the blond gambler. They asked him if he was ok and if he had been hurt in anyway and he dodged every question with a witty response. That's when Davey saw the real Racetrack shining through. He would laugh things off, joke about them like they were nothing. And Davey could see that it was both his personality and his way of coping with the awful things that had hit him in the past.

Crutchie was up on stage, telling everyone that he was fine and that he would get better as he coughed and sneezed and hugged his thin sweater closer around his shoulders. And Davey saw how Jack looked up at him with scared eyes. The kid's must've never been real good with getting sick. But the poor gimp seemed to be looking ahead to the future, knowing that he'd pull through.

"Hey, Higgins!" Albert called to his friend, as they had gotten separated in the crowd. "You owe me a rematch of poker!" He laughed, slinging an arm around the smaller boy.

"Why?" The gambler scoffed, shrugging his shoulders. "It's not like you'll win anyhow."

"Jack, what are you gonna do about your foster father?" Davey asked his friend, as now all the boys had gone to the back of the room, where they'd come in from, to see Race teasing Albert about how he would never win a poker game against him.

"Nothin', Dave." Jack replied, simply, carefully watching as two boys, one with some glasses, and one with a slingshot in his hand, helped Crutchie off the stage and over to the laughing crowd of boys. And Jack let himself smile for the first time that day.

"What do ya mean nothin', Jack?" Davey asked, angrily. "How could you just sit back and let this happen again?"

"Hey! It ain't like that, alright?!" Jack's tone was hushed, as he didn't want to alarm the other boys in the room to what their conversation was about. "You think I don't want to get my brother's outta that damn apartment?!" He asked, actually hurt that Davey thinks he hadn't done everything he possibly could to protect his family. "Cops will only make it worse! Trust me! If we just stay outta his way it'll be fine! We've been doin' this for years."

Davey was about to argue once more when the commotion in the back of the room suddenly turned from playful, to shocked, hurt and angry. Jack didn't waist a second before stomping up to the crowd. But as he was only half way away he heard his kid brother begging. Something not often heard outside of their abusive home.

It began with a simple, playful argument. Albert shoved Race and Race shoved back. Then their fists were flying at each other, intentionally missing each other, but then Albert pushed him. It wasn't hard, but Race was pushed to the ground, on his back, and something that no one was meant to see slipped out of his pocket.

JoJo leaned down to help Race up, but the poor kid was too busy trying to reach whatever Albert picked up in his hand to actually get off the ground. When the older, red headed boy saw what he was holding, Race couldn't stop himself.

"Don't tell Jack!" Then Race caught sight of his little brother, who limped over to Albert to see what he was holding. "Crutchie no!" He tried to get up and stop the younger boy from seeing the thing that Albert was looking over, a hurt and somewhat angry look on his face. But now, instead of JoJo helping him up, the boy was now keeping Race from hiding the small box from his brother. And Race's heart shattered when Crutchie saw what it was he was so desperately trying to keep under wraps. "Crutchie... I didn't-"

"How could you, Race?" Crutchie didn't get mad very often. But when he did, man, it wasn't good. His voice was low and dangerous. And it scared his older brother.

"Please don't tell, Jack!" Race begged, trying to struggle out of his friend's grip, but in his panicked state, he was no match for the other boy. "Please! I ain't even touched one of 'em! I swear!"

"You were going to, Race!" Crutchie screamed, making his brother wince at the volume of his voice. "How could you?"

"Please don't tell Jack." Race pleaded again, getting desperate and beginning to actually sound scared.

"Don't tell me what?" Jack honestly never thought he'd see the day when his baby brother advanced on Race. The boy glared daggers at their brother before he forcefully pushed himself towards the boy on the ground with his crutch, ready to take a swing at the older kid. But another boy stood in his way.

"Back off, Finch!" Crutchie screamed. Then someone grabbed him from behind and he tried to jerk himself out of the grip as he watched his older brother, silent tears making their way down his face as he sat on the ground, stuck in the hold of one of their friends. "Let go, Elmer!" But he was stuck and he watched Jack walk over, confused as to what was happening.

"What ain't we tellin' me, Race?" Jack asked, nervously, trying to remind himself that no matter what it was, anger wasn't the answer but then Albert tossed a small box his direction. The oldest of all of them caught it easily and looked it over.

"Said he ain't touched it." Albert explained, still angry, but trying to keep the anger at bay.

"Yet." Crutchie mumbled out, still glaring at the frantic boy on the ground.

Jack looked over at his brother on the ground. His lips were pressed together in a firm line as he did and none of the boys thought they'd ever seen Racetrack Higgins so helpless in his life. "Where did you get these?" Jack asked, dangerously. Race didn't respond, but he also didn't make any move to get out of JoJo's hold. And Jack had his answer. "Damn it, Race!"

Race jumped at his big brother's outburst. He saw Davey trying to get Jack to calm down, but the seventeen year old wasn't having it. Race looked down at the ground, the shame of what he'd done catching up with him in that moment. Then he heard Jack bark out orders. And he knew he'd be an idiot if he didn't follow them. "You. Outside. Now." Jack demanded pointing to his brother and Race was up in a second, walking to the door right next to the stairs to the stage. He shoved the door opened and stormed outside.

Davey noticed that Jack was breathing harder than normal. He watched as him and his youngest brother made eye contact. Crutchie's glare briefly turned from furious to absolutely broken, then back again. Then Davey caught sight of what was in Jack's hand.

A pack of cigarettes.


	7. Chapter 7

"Jack... maybe I should go talk ta him-" The red headed boy tried as he watched Jack pace slowly back and forth in front of them. But he was cut off.

"No one yells at my brothers but me, Albert," Jack stated as calmly as he could. He then looked back down at the box in his hand. Without warning, it was thrown to the ground in anger. Jack bit at one of his nails for a moment before taking a deep breath. He looked around at his friends. Most of them sat in silence in the red seats now. Davey was one of the only ones left standing, along with Crutchie who was over to his left.

The young fourteen year old was still furious. Davey was trying to calm him down with a hand on his shoulder. But Crutchie picked up the cigarettes when Jack had thrown them. No one could stop him before he was hastily limping down the isle way to the door his brother had stormed out of. His crutch slammed to the ground with every step he took and Jack was sure he'd never seen his baby brother move faster.

Jack glanced back giving his boys a stern look. "Stay here," he ordered, his arms crossed over his chest before he followed Crutchie out the door.

Davey stood still until the door closed and all three boys were out of the room. He heard yelling, muffled by the walls and he watched every boy in the room get up and move closer to the door. Only Albert, JoJo, and Romeo stayed seated, respecting Jack's orders for them to stay put. "Does this happen often?" He asked, curiously, not exactly knowing what to do and feeling a bit out of place.

JoJo gave a bitter laugh off and adjusted Romeo in his lap so he could turn around and speak to the new boy in their little, makeshift shelter. "You mean Race bein' an idiot?" He scoffed. "Yes. But Jack yellin' at him for it is neva' this bad," he explained, listening to the shouts that were still happening from the other room.

"I ain't eva' seen Crutchie so mad," Romeo added, recalling how the older boy had become red in the face with anger when he found out what Race had been hiding.

"He had every right ta be that mad," Albert concluded, looking back at Davey and then at his friends. "Race's been clean for six months. If they catch him smokin' again he'll be in big trouble," he told his two friends. Then he looked back at Davey. "They don't always get along, but Jack is just tryin' ta make sure the system has no reason ta move Race or Crutchie away from him," the red head explained. "He loves them more than anythin' in the world," he sighed, listening to the argument outside calm down a little bit.

Davey nodded at that. "I can tell."

Crutchie busted through the door, almost sobering at the scene he found in the hall just out side of the center of the theatre. His brother was sitting up against the wall, opposite of the door. His back was pressed to the wall and his knees were pulled up to his chest. His arms encircled his knees and Race's chin rested on his arms. The fifteen year old's red rimmed eyes looked up when his little brother entered the room. It was a heartbreaking scene. And Crutchie's anger almost melted away. But then his fingers curled around the box in his hand. He barely even noticed his oldest brother walk into the hall behind him.

"What the hell, Race?!" Crutchie yelled, after knowing the door had been closed. "Do you remember what almost happened when Wiesel caught you with this the first time?!" Race sniffled, more tears making their way down his face, but he didn't speak as he looked away from the angry face of his baby brother and the disappointed glare of his older one. "Race you almost got thrown in Juvie!" Crutchie cried.

Race wiped his nose on his sleeve as he sniffled again. He couldn't look at his brothers. So he chose to look further down the hall as he held himself, trying his best to protect himself from being hurt. "I didn't use 'em-" He was barely able to finish that sentence as Crutchie cut him off again.

"You were going to, Race!" He screamed, making his brother wince at the volume of his voice. "You had every intention of usin' 'em, admit it!" The gimp no demanded, getting dangerously close to his older brother in his rage. Jack held the small boy by the shoulders, trying his best to hold him back from hurting Race.

"What's the difference?!" Race finally yelled back, glaring up at Crutchie. "Huh?!" He asked again when his little brother didn't answer. "Snyder's gonna kill me anyways!" He screamed at them, angry tears falling freely from his eyes. He didn't move from his spot and he was glad he didn't when Jack was the one that advanced on him. If he'd been standing up, the fight they were having wouldn't have been only a vocal one.

"What the hell is that supposed ta mean?" Jack asked, advancing on the boy. "You plannin' on lettin' him?! You plannin' on followin' our mother?!" Jack screamed, snatching the box from Crutchie's hands. "This is what got her hooked, Race!" He yelled, shaking the cigarettes in Race's face. "Do ya want ta be taken away?!" Jack asked. "Do ya want that, Race?!" He repeated when his brother didn't answer.

Race broke at the question. His face crumbled into quiet sobs as he let his head fall onto his arms. Jack squatted down in front of him, not laying a hand on him, trying not to frighten him any further. "Who did ya get these from, Race?" Jack asked, not as loud but still demanding. Race didn't respond, so Crutchie stepped forward again.

"Answer the question, Race." He ordered, glaring down at his older brother.

Race took a shaky breath and laughed, bitterly. He stuttered for the right words. He wished for something to say that would just make this go away. He hated it when he and his brothers fought. But he came up with no excuse. "I lifted 'em from Weasel's pocket a few days ago." He finally muttered. Closing his eyes, leaning his head back against the wall, waiting for the inevitable shouting that would soon follow his confession.

Crutchie brought his hand up to his face, covering his eyes and sighing as the gravity of the situation hit them all. Jack scowled at his brother. He took in a breath, as if he was about to speak, but stopped himself and closed his eyes, trying to calm himself down. The he opened his eyes and looked back down at his brother that wouldn't meet his eyes. "Do you have any idea what you could've done, Race?" Jack growled. The boy scratched the back of his head, sniffling, not answering his brother. "Do you know what Weasel will do if he finds out you stole a pack of cigs from him?" He asked. "He won't just move you, Race. He'll take Crutchie away too. You know that! One more slip up and it's over!"

"So fight for Crutchie!" Race screamed, breaking under the scolding from his big brother. "Make sure they don't take him away from you! You'd be happier without me anyways!" He yelled. The brothers were shocking into silence after that. But Race took a deep breath and continued, in a low, quiet voice. "You wouldn't have ta worry about me doin' anythin' stupid no more." He sobbed, letting his head fall onto his arms.

Crutchie didn't even notice the tears that were falling from his own green eyes at the statement. He just looked up at Jack, not knowing what to say. Happier? Without one of their brothers? How could he say that?

Jack watched as his kid brother's thin frame shook with sobs. "Hey..." He whispered, done yelling. Done scaring his already frightened little brother. "Race..." He tried again when the fifteen year old didn't look up at him. He gently touch the boy's arm, pushing the flinch to the back of his mind as he pulled Race's arms away from his face, forcing the kid's face to be visible. "Hey, look at me." He spoke in a normal tone, curling his index finger under his brother's chin, forcing him to look up at him. "How on earth could you say that we would ever be happy without you?" He asked, his face portraying so much hurt at that comment. "Race... you're our brother."

"We just want ya ta stop bein' such an idiot." Crutchie explained in a harsh voice. Race was able to master his natural glare again in that moment and look over at Crutchie. But before Race could make whatever sarcastic remark he had on his tongue slid out of his mouth, Crutchie stopped him. "Why'd ya steal 'em?" He asked, calming down a bit, lowering himself down next to Race's right side. He set his crutch down next to him and waited for the answer.

Race looked down at his hands. He knew his two brothers were staring at him, waiting for an answer, so he finally sighed. "I was sick of feelin' hungry all the time." He stated, not even glancing up. "Same reason I did it before." He explained. "And today... I was so cold, Jack..." He looked up at his older brother and shook his head. "I just wanted ta feel warm..."

Jack sighed. He then sat down next to his brother, bringing the boy into his arms, resting his chin in the kid's blond curls as he rested his head on his chest. "Why do you insist on tryin' ta get through these things yourself, kid?" Asked in a whisper, looking over to his baby brother and seeing the hurt in his eyes. "No more, you hear me?" He asked, sternly. "I catch ya with these killer sticks again, I'll soak ya inta next week. I will not lose you the same way I lost Mom... and I will not lose you to the damn system," Jack got out in a whisper.

Crutchie sniffled. He wanted so baldy to be able to stay mad at his older brother who had been hiding such a thing from him. But he found himself thinking about the past week. "You was givin' up your food for me, weren't ya?" He asked.

Race chose not to answer his baby brother's question. He only, stretched out his arm, welcoming the kid into his embrace. "Please stop gettin' sick, kid," he begged, quietly, earning a small smile from the boy.

"Stop bein' so stupid," Crutchie shot back as he leaned into the hug, resting his head on his brother's shoulder. Race just chuckled.

"Ya got me, kid."

And Jack smiled down at his brothers. His family he never wanted to let go of, before a thought hit him. What if he couldn't have custody? What if when he could finally fight for them, he lost? His smile fell as he realized there was only one thing he could do. He would win. He had to.

When Jack opened the door to the room, he rolled his eyes as all their friends immediately jumped away from the wall, throwing their hands over their faces, starting up fake conversations or just flat out walking away. "Thanks for the privacy, fellas," Jack spoke, his voice dripping with sarcasm. When Race walked in, Crutchie holding onto his arm with his free hand, the entire room went silent. Everyone stared at him like they were waiting for something to happen. So Jack shook his head. "Move on, boys. Nothin' ta see here."

Davey was amazed when all the boys listened to Jack, like he was their leader or something. He walked up to the boy who had lost his brothers in the crowd. Jack sighed. "Sorry 'bout that, Davey," he apologized. "Sometimes... my brother... he just doesn't know what he's doin'." Jack gave a small laugh.

Davey just shrugged. "He's lucky ta have you then." He stated. Then he pulled out his phone as it was vibrating in his pocket. He read, what Jack assumed, was a text message, before his eyes widened. "I'm sorry, Jack. I gotta get home. The folks are waitin'."

Jack's small smile seemed to fall at the statement. Folks. Jack wished everyday, not for himself, but for his family, that he could say they had folks to go home to. But he nodded. "Let me walk ya home. I dragged ya over here. Least I could do is show ya the way back." He stated.

Davey almost turned him down, but he thought it over and nodded. "Sure." So Jack walked over to his two brothers who were sitting in the midst of their friends. He brought Crutchie, who was sitting on the edge of the stage again, into his arms and pressed a light kiss to his head. Then he walked around the kid to Race who was leaning up against the stage next to the gimp.

"Take care of him." Jack ordered as he brought his gambling brother into his arms.

"Of course, Jack." Race nodded. He knew the drill. But Jack pulled away from him and held him by the shoulders before leaving.

"Hey, I love you, little brother." He said, before pressing a brotherly kiss to his the blond boy's temple.

Race was shocked for a moment before he smiled and said, "Love ya too, Kelly."

Davey and Jack walked down the street, back to their apartment complex. Davey seemed to not be able to stop talking along the way. Not that Jack minded. Honestly, the boy was just confused as to why this kid from next door actually gave a damn.

"So what's with the names?" The taller boy asked, genuinely curious. "I mean, Race, Crutchie, JoJo, Finch?" He listed. "Why not use their real names?"

Jack smiled at the memories of the boys' names. "Racer and Crutchie give out the names," he stated. "They used ta do it ta the men our mother would bring home. We neva' knew their names." Jack watched as Davey nodded, so he continued. "I gave my brothers their nicknames. I've been callin' Chris Crutchie since he was born. He's always had a bum leg, but it wasn't till Crutchie was all we called him, that he actually accepted the fact that he'd neva' be able to walk on that foot," the boy explained. "And Race is a bit of a gambler. Been doin' it eva' since he was five years old. Won his first bet on a horse he was watchin' on TV ta a man ma brought home with her. So I started callin' him Racetrack. Race for short."

Davey nodded. "Then they started callin' all their friends by their nicknames?" He asked, confused.

"Well... Davey, all these boys have had it rough. Most of 'em don't live in homes that treat them so good," Jack told his new friend with a heavy heart. "When they hear someone screamin' their name, they don't like it too much," he explained. They kept walking down the street, passing a local coffee shop on their way, not noticing the man inside that looked up at them as they made their way past the window. "So my brothers gave them all names that describe them, and that make 'em feel safe."

Davey smiled at that and stopped on the corner of the street. "Your brothers sure are somethin'," he said, turning to Jack. The older boy nodded his head and smiled back at him before Davey took a quick look around. Then he saw a man walking out of the coffee shop, looking directly at them. "Ya know that guy?" Davey asked, not taking his eyes off of the man.

Jack was confused. What guy? But then he turned around and his instincts kicked in. "Run for it," he hissed to his friend before grabbing the taller boy's wrist and dragging him down the street. Wordlessly, Davey followed. After they'd turned many corners and ducked behind some trash bins, Jack held Davey back up against the wall of the alleyway they landed in with his left hand on the boy's chest, pushing the both up against a wall. Jack waited for footsteps to be heard running past them before he breathed a sigh of relief.

"Ya wanna tell me what that was about?" Davey demanded, straightening himself up as they both caught their breath.

"Snyder." The word was nothing short of a growl as Jack stood up as well, making sure that the man was gone.

"Snyder?" Davey repeated, disbelief evident in his voice. "Head detective of the police department, Snyder?" He asked. "Why are we runnin' from him? Jack he could help ya if ya asked. He's the best cop known ta the city!" Davey tried, but Jack just looked at him like he was annoyed with that being said.

"Trust me, Dave," Jack scoffed. "Snyder ain't gonna help. He ain't the saint everyone thinks he is."

Davey squinted at Jack in confusion. "What are ya talkin' about?"

"What are ya, deaf? He's dirty!" Jack yelled, pointing his hand in the direction the old man had run. "I, of all people, should know," he sighed, thinking about the past few years of his life. His life in that awful home.

Davey stared for a moment before his eyes widened in understanding. "He's your foster father," he concluded, pinching the bridge of his nose. Everything made sense now. "That's why you won't go to the cops. That's why your so scared ta do anything." Davey heard Jack scoff, but he spoke the truth. Those three boys were terrified of the police. And now Davey knew why.

"Do yourself a favor, Davey. Stay clear of him. He'll make your life a living hell if you let him." And the two boys continued to walk home, trying to forget that when Jack walked through the front door, nothing good would be waiting for him on the other side.

 


	8. Chapter 8

Race sat, glaring at his red headed friend from over a hand of cards. He watched as Albert's finger tapped on the edges of the small papers as he examined his hand. Race watched as his friend kept glancing back and forth between him and his cards. He was able to smirk as the older boy groaned and set down his cards. "I fold." And Race laughed, rolling his eyes as the boys around him cheered. He looked down at the space between him and his friend, a disappointed look crossing his face. There was nothing there.

"Not like we was playin' for anythin' important," Race scoffed, rolling his eyes and allowing his cards to fall from his hands. The dark boy with the glasses behind him just lightly hit the back of his head. The sixteen year old boy then held the blond gambler by the shoulders, gently massaging his tense muscles, waiting for Race to, inevitably, melt into his touch. When he did, the older kid sighed.

"Ya know Jack would murder all of us if we let ya play for money," he told the kid. And Race nodded, looking around at his group of friends.

"Trust me, Specs. I know," Race admitted, absolutely defeated, knowing that if they hadn't needed that money so badly a few nights ago, Jack would've made him regret going to that bar so much more than he had already that night. "But I don't know how else to take care of 'em." That was the sentence that made the room go silent. The one that brought the boys back to reality.

Racetrack glanced over to the edge of the stage that they were sitting on. His brother lay on a pillow and some blankets. He was sleeping quietly while the rest of them played cards. Jack had been gone for a while now and Race had been watching his kid brother, as instructed. The look in his eyes was full of so much helplessness as he looked upon his baby brother.

Albert shook his head. He reached over and set a hand on Race's shoulder, cursing himself silently when the boy flinched and looked at him wide eyed for a split second, before he glanced at the hand and his face softened as he traced the arm back to his friend. The red head finally spoke, "Race, you're gonna get yourself caught one of these days," he warned, a worried edge in his voice. "And May won't be able ya bail ya out, this time. Jack neither... Snyder will ship ya off ta Juvie without a second thought and ya know it." The room was deadly silent. Race looked dead at the ground. He blinked back the tears in his eyes, vigorously. "Jack doesn't wanna lose you."

Race glanced back over to his baby brother. The look on his face when he'd found the cigarettes would never leave his mind, but he pushed it aside for now. The boy was getting the first peaceful sleep he'd had in a week. He was getting better. But Race knew Snyder would find a way to ruin it again. He always did. "I know... but I made some money the other day..." Race's voice was small but he looked up at his friends. "It's the only thing that'll get us through-" he tried to argue.

"And it might get ya caught!" Specs shouted from behind him. Race flinched at the yell. He pulled the sleeves of the sweatshirt he wore further over his arms. He heard the boy behind him sigh and squat down just behind his back. "Race, we know how hard you's've got it," he stated, looking around at all the other boys who nodded. "But goin' out ta bars and smokin' ain't gonna stop Snyder from comin' afta' ya."

Race rubbed at his eyes, fiercely. He sniffled and looked over to the door every few seconds, hoping to see one of the only two people he truly trusted in the world come waltzing into the room. But Jack had been gone for a while. And Race didn't know if he was coming back anytime soon.

JoJo carefully sat down next to Albert, across from his friend. "Relax, Race," he calmed with a small smile. "He's comin'. He wouldn't eva' leave you two."

Race looked around at all his friends. They were looking back at him with gentle faces. It was like they thought he'd break at the wrong word. Like he'd shatter if they touched him wrong. And a feeling Race couldn't place surged up at him and he reacted the only way he knew how. He jerked out of Specs's grip and stood to his feet. "What're you all lookin' at?" His voice wasn't nearly as demanding as he wanted it to be. But he stood tall anyways and glared at the other boys before he stormed off in the direction of his brother.

Specs sighed as his friend walked away. He knew what happened in that boy's home. He knew that when his emotions surfaced, he didn't know how to control them. "Just a few more months, kid..."

Race dropped down next to his sleeping brother. His chin fell into his hands as he watched the younger boy sleep peacefully. By the looks of it, it was a rare occurrence. As the boy slept, Race watched as his chest moved up and down, evenly, letting that single movement calm him for a while as he waited for his big brother to return. Every so often, he'd run a gentle hand through Crutchie's hair, playing with the soft substance between his fingers and calming the boy's dreams as he did so. He didn't know what his friends were doing and he didn't care. He just sat and waited for his brother to wake up or for Jack to return.

Crutchie drifted in and out of consciousness for a long time. His eyelids were heavy, but as he drifted off once more, he saw too many things he didn't want to. He saw a woman, laying on the floor of the bathroom, her eyes wide open and yet, not seeing anything. He saw the only two people in the world that he cherished more than anything being ripped away from him, maybe for good. He saw Jack bloodied and bruised to the point of not being able to move. Then he saw Race, gasping for breath, soaked to the bone as he did so. Then he felt something that calmed him. He felt fingers tangling themselves in his hair. And he felt himself smile as he came back to reality.

"Ya know it's weird ta watch people when they sleep?" the boy teased, his voice rough with sleep as he drearily opened his eyes to see Race sitting criss-cross next to him. The boy cracked a smile and ruffled his hair as he turned from his side onto his back, looking up at his older brother with a loving grin. But something about it wasn't right. Something about it was just... off.

"Sorry Crutch... I'm just glad you's sleepin'," the older blond sighed, cupping Crutchie's cheek in his hand.

Crutchie leaned into the touch. But, in his exhausted, beaten and sick state, he was unable to keep his next words from slipping out. "Ya know I miss ya, Race?"

The question took Race by surprise. He leaned down to the kid further and grabbed the gimp boy's hand. "What do ya mean?"

Crutchie regretted his words, immediately, as he realized he'd said them out loud. He looked away from his brother's confused, blue eyes. Finally, he realized, Race was not about to forget what he'd just said, so he sighed, "I miss your jokes, Race," he forced out. "I miss it when you'd mutter something stupid behind Snyder's back or when ya would force Jack ta stop bein' so serious all the time and have fun. I miss it when ya didn't go behind our backs and ya used ta talk ya us 'bout everythin'..." Crutchie blinked back his tears as he spoke. "I know we don't have it so good... but I only need one Jack."

Race was taken aback by Crutchie's words. Was it really getting so bad, he was losing himself? "Crutchie, I-"

"I know ya wanna take care of me," Crutchie cut off. He tightened his hold on his brother's hand as he continued to speak. "I know that's why you've been sneakin' off ta bars and givin' up your food. But I just want ya ta stop tryin' ta be Jack, Race," he got out. Race was no longer looking up at him. So Crutchie knew he had to make the other boy smile somehow, and nothing did that better than sarcasm. "Ya don't do it too well anyhow..."

That last little comment is what made Race's face break out into a smile he tried to force down. But he looked up at the younger boy's green eyes and he chuckled. "So that's how it is, huh?" Before Crutchie knew what hit him, he was thrown into a fit of laughter.

Race's hands traveled up and down his little brother's tummy. He laughed right along with the sick boy as he rolled around on the ground, trying to escape his hands that forced him to gasp for air as they tickled him.

Jack sadly pushed the door open to the theatre. He was absolutely petrified to go back to the apartment. Not knowing what was to come killed him inside. But as he entered the house, he smiled as he saw Race and Crutchie. Their friends were scattered around the room, but his brothers were on the stage. His whole face softened as he watched Race tickle their baby brother, relentlessly. The smaller boy was laughing, gasping for air as he swatted at Race's hands. The older boy walked over to them as the tickling slowed.

Race laughed as his brother smiled up at him and he scooped the boy up in his arms, ignoring the pain for a moment. It was a good moment. One they would always remember. So Race cradled his brother to him as they both laughed. His brother laid his head on his shoulder and Race practically melted.

Jack saw his brothers beginning to calm and he smiled. As he stepped up on the stage, he placed a hand on Race's head, gently, crouching down behind the boy who barely flinched at his touch so he could see his littlest brother's smiling face as his innocent green eyes peaked up from the gambler's shoulder. "Hey fellas," he spoke quietly, just above a whisper.

Crutchie smiled his perfect smile back up at his older brother and Jack couldn't help but feel a warmth spread through him. He ruffled the youngest boy's hair and watched as he snuggled closer to Race. "Hey Jack," Crutchie replied. "What took you's so long?" The question wasn't supposed to make Jack's face fall. But when it did, Crutchie knew something was wrong. Only one person could give his brother that angry, helpless look in his eyes.

Jack gave a bitter scoff. He shook his head as he glanced around the room. "I'm sorry, fellas," he sighed, his throat tightening as he thought about what these kids had just been through the night before. He didn't think he could do it again. "I thought he'd be at the station or somethin'..."

Race shook his head. This couldn't happen again tonight. Crutchie was coughing up a lung this morning. He couldn't even walk his way across town. No way this was happening again. "What happened, Jackie?" the gambler asked, as gently as he possibly could. He turned his head so he could look up at his brother with eyes that betrayed him. He was terrified.

Jack sighed at his brothers as they both looked up to him with such terrified looks it broke him. He blinked back his own tears as he spoke, "Snyder saw me with Davey," he explained.

Crutchie felt his older brother's hold on him increase. He just clutched Race back as they heard the news. "What are we gonna do?" The boy had frightened tears building up in his green eyes.

Jack shook his head. "I don't know..." If Jack knew anything, it was that what he didn't know scared his brothers more than anything. "But we have ta go back." At this, Race's eyes widened.

"Go back?!" His voice was louder than he'd anticipated, but he continued anyways. "Jack, were you there last night?! He ain't been that mad in weeks!" Race's voice was desperate and terrified while still managing to sound furious as he looked into his big brother's dark green eyes, one of which was still bruised. Jack glanced around and saw that they'd caught their friends' attention, but Race clearly didn't care. "We can't go back! He'll... he'll-"

"No he won't." Jack held Race by the back of the neck in a firm grip. The boy was in his own version of panic. His voice grew louder and angrier. And Jack did all he could to calm him down. "I will not let him hurt you again," he spoke slowly and firmly as he looked back and forth between his brothers. His two best friends. "Neither of you. Ya got it?"

Crutchie nodded at the stern tone. Race, however, was much more reluctant. The youngest of them watched as his two brothers stared at each other. Race's glare held a certain level of anger. His anger was not directed at Jack , but more at their life. The fury that his icy blue eyes held was surrounded with fear and disbelief that they had to go back to that awful, awful place the government wanted them to call home. But Jack's green eyes stared him down. They held the same amount of assurance and protection as always. They forced Race's anger to almost dissolve into helplessness instead.

"I can't do it again, Jack..." The blond boy's voice broke as he spoke. "We can't do it again. I almost drown yesterday!" Race exclaimed, making Crutchie flinch and hold him tighter. "He didn't give a damn! He's makin' Crutchie sick! And he gave ya that black eye and those other bruises you've been hidin' from us too!"

"And if we don't go back I'll lose ya!" Jack screamed. He didn't even notice that some of his friends had taken that as their cue to leave or that the others were watching, sorrowful looks on their faces as he continued. "If we try ta run, they will make sure I can never see either of ya again. Is that what you want?"

Race blinked back his tears. "No!" He sobbed. He let Crutchie shift on his lap so they were both facing Jack and the older boy let go of the youngest, but kept his strong hold on Race's head, forcing the boy to look at him as he thought about the question. "I wanna be with you! And Crutchie! And I want him ta stop beatin' on us!" The tears broke out. And Race couldn't stop them. "I can't do it anymore!"

Jack scooted himself forward so that his and his brother's knees were touching. He pulled his kid brother's head to his shoulder as the kid cried. He grabbed Crutchie's hands as tears built up in his eyes as well, holding both of them in only one of his. "Shushshshsh..." Jack soothed. "I'm sorry, boys... I know it's hard. I know I can't always stop it..." Jack's voice broke at the end of that sentence. He had spent forever wanting to believe that it wasn't true, but it was. "But I can't... I can't lose you. You's is all I have."

Crutchie felt his heart clench as Jack let go of his hold on his emotions. The tears fell freely as his oldest brother held Race, who was now completely sobbing against him. Crutchie sniffled and felt Jack squeeze his hand. And as they sobbed they forgot about everything. They forgot about everything else but the one thing they needed in the world. Each other.

It was dark when they arrived at their foster dad's apartment. They stood outside, hesitant about opening the door. But Jack sighed before bringing his brothers into his arms. Race's head was on his left shoulder, Crutchie's on his right. He gave them both a quick kiss on the head before letting go. "If things get bad," his voice was hushed and angry as he spoke, but he continued anyways. "Get out. Fast."

Race nodded, reluctantly, before Jack turned to the plant that was in the corner by the door. He dug around for a key before slowly unlocking the door and pushing it open, not prepared for what was inside.

"Hello boys." Jack was sure he had died. He froze in his spot and took a quick glance back at his brothers. They were just as confused as he was. Race stood, staring at the man in front of them and Crutchie gave him a short shrug as he leaned onto his crutch. But Jack looked back.

"Well don't just stand there kids," Snyder spoke. "Come in!" The man had a smile on his face. A smile that made Jack a little sick. One that was clearly fake to the three boys in the hallway. His voice was oddly happy and the boys cautiously walked further into the room, tensing as they passed the man that was supposed to take care of them. Jack was in the lead and his brothers were off to his side, away from the evil man as they walked. "Where have you boys been? We've been waiting," their guardian scolded, in a light manner that was rarely heard from him. Then something clicked in Jack's mind. We. We, as in not only Snyder. And Jack relaxed. He knew who was there.

"Hey kids!" Jack rounded the corner to see two men, only one of them did he smile at. His brothers too.

"Hey chief!" Jack couldn't explain the hope he felt surge up in him for that one night. The man he was addressing stood from his place at the small table. He was dressed in a gray suit and a red tie. His brown hair was short on the top of his head and his blue eyes were kind and gentle. As he stood, his badge became visible as well as his gun that was secured to his belt.

The fond smile of the man made the boys feel safe. Jack's grin widened as the man reached to shake his hand. "Jack Kelly, it's been too long!" The man ruffled Jack's hair as they shook hands. Jack laughed and nodded in response before the man took a good look at him. "Good Lord, boy, what happened to your eye?"

Jack's smile fell only a little. He resisted the urge to look back at his hated guardian, knowing he couldn't give anything away. He wasn't willing to risk anything happening. So he lied. Just like always. "Oh, nothin'," he answered cooly. "Just some guy and me had a little bit of a," Jack paused, pretending he was thinking for a moment to find the right word, "disagreement," he finished with a smirk.

The chief laughed and slapped the kid lightly on the shoulder. "Well, then I'm sure as hell glad I'm not seeing the other guy," he chuckled, moving behind the oldest brother just in time to miss Jack's grimace of pain from the soft, encouraging slap.

Crutchie smiled as the kind man approached him, reaching out to shake his hand. "And, young Christopher, how are we feeling today? I've heard you've been a bit under the weather lately," his gentle smile warmed the gimp boy's heart as he shook the man's hand.

"I'm fine chief May, really," Crutchie assured, smiling as the man clipped his chin, making him look up at him.

"I know you are, kid," he laughed. "Nothing keeps you down does it?"

Crutchie's smile widened. "Nothin', sir," he responded, confidently. The man brought the kid into his embrace and ruffled his hair.

"Atta' boy," he approved, patting the boy on the back before moving onto the last of the three brothers.

"Anthony 'Racetrack' Higgins..." the man sighed, shaking his head with his hands on his hips. "What kinda trouble have you gotten yourself into, now?" the man asked in a mocking tone. Race smirked as the man stared him down.

"I'd tell ya," Race shrugged, nonchalantly, like it was no big deal, before taking a step towards the man. "But then I'd have ta kill ya." And the man broke out into laughter.

"That's the Higgins I know," he stated, bringing the boy straight into his arms and allowing the kid to relish in the friendly touch of an adult.

Crutchie chuckled at his brother's words. He smiled up at Jack who smiled back down at him. Tonight might actually be okay. They might actually make it through tonight.

"I hope you fellas don't mind that your foster dad invited me over for dinner tonight," the smiling man ruffled Race's hair as he spoke pushing him over towards his brothers. "I thought I'd stop by to see three of my favorite kids."

"We're always happy ta have you, May," Jack said with a smile taking a glance over at Snyder, making sure the man wasn't gonna try anything that night. Oh how he hoped and prayed.

"Well where have you boys been?" Another voice asked. It was Weasel. Jack just hadn't wanted to acknowledge the other man in the room. The one who helped their guardian "teach the lessons". But Jack faked a small smiled as he glanced over at the other man. "We've been worried sick."

Race resisted the urge to scoff, knowing that if he did, the lie they'd been telling for four years would be brought to the surface and that he wouldn't live to see tomorrow. Neither would his brothers. So he just bit down on his lip and let Jack explain, "We was just out with some old friends is all." Chief May nodded and smiled at them.

"I'm glad you kids could go out and have some fun," he stated, placing a hand on Race's shoulder. "Well what are we waiting for?" he asked as he walked back over to the table, holding up a few take out bags. "Let's eat!"

Jack was sure he hadn't had a proper meal in weeks. His brothers too. And he couldn't help the smile on his face as they sat around the coffee table, eating and laughing with each other. The adults were sitting in the kitchen at the table and the brothers sat on the ground. They didn't mind though, just as long as nothing bad happened. Once they were done, Jack grabbed their plates and carried them to the kitchen, placing them on the counter to be washed. Then he walked over to the table and carefully took their dishes.

"Oh Mr. Kelly, I'm sure we can manage our own plates," the chief argued as Jack began to take his dish. Jack froze for a moment before glancing up at Snyder who gave him a firm glare. So Jack replaced his smile and shook his head.

"Don't sweat it, chief," he assured as he began to move back to the sink and started to wash the dishes. His brothers joined him after a minute, helping him dry them. It wasn't five minutes before Race and Crutchie were swinging rags at each other, getting each other wet with them.

The chief of police watched the three boys mess around. He smiled at them as they laughed with each other. Then he glanced at the two other men at the table. He sighed before standing to his feet. "Boys, why don't you take a seat," he suggested, gesturing to the couch in the living room. Jack seemed to slow in his movements as he realized the conversation that came next was gonna be serious. He put away the clean dishes and wrapped his arm around Crutchie's shoulders and patted Race on the back, leading his brothers into the living room.

Jack helped Crutchie sit down against Race who sat on the far right of the couch. The youngest leaned up against the gambler. Then, Jack sat beside the gimp boy, putting his arm around him. "What's up, May?" The boys sat quietly and waited, knowing better than to argue and question people while their foster father was in the room.

The chief sat down on the table in front of the boys. The man took a quick glance up at his friends before looking back to the precious kids in front of him. He felt a surge of guilt flow up in him. He knew this was gonna be difficult to explain. He took a breath before speaking. "I know you kids are used to not going many places," he started, looking at the young faces. Oh these poor kids. "And I know you are used to being together all the time, but I've been talking to Mr. Wiesel."

Jack had a bad feeling in the pit of his stomach. He tightened his hold on Crutchie but didn't move as the man continued. "We think it's a good idea for you kids to get used to going out into the real world."

Race glanced over to his brothers. He felt Crutchie grab for his hand and he took it, instantly, waiting for the man to just get to the point. "We decided to enroll you guys in school."

Jack felt his brothers tense up. Public school. "High school?" Jack scoffed. He looked around, trying to contain his initial panic. He glanced back at his brothers as he sat on the edge of the couch. "We ain't neva' gone ta public school, chief. Why start now?" he asked, an edge in his voice that no one could quite place.

The chief sighed. "Well, I think it would be good to try and get you ahead on your education, Jack," the man explained. He stood as the boy did. He knew what Jack was masking with his anger right now. It was pure terror.

"You know the only thing I wanna do when I turn eighteen is adopt them!" Jack shouted, pointing back to his two kid brothers who sat on the couch behind him. "I couldn't care less about my education, May, I just want to take them in!"

"I know that, Kelly." The man placed a hand on the kid's shoulder. "And I think the judge you get, whoever it may be, would consider that a whole lot more if you have a high school diploma." His voice was calm as he looked back and forth between the three boys. "I know you want to take them in, but in order to do that you need a decent education, a job and a home."

Jack stood for a moment. He wanted to argue with the man. Wanted to tell him they didn't need this. They didn't need more people breathing down their necks about homework and sleeping and tests and studies. They had enough on their plate already. But Jack pressed his lips together as he realized the man was right. He needed to look like he was responsible enough to take in two kids when he was only gonna be eighteen.

"I'm just trying ta help you, kid. All of us are." Jack almost gagged when May pointed to Wiesel and Snyder. "You've got a guardian to keep you steady for now and a social worker to keep you guys together." The man smiled at the boys. "I've known you guys for four years and all I want to do is to be able to keep you together," he explained. "You deserve that much."

Jack crossed his arms and ignored the glare he got from Snyder. "Thanks chief..." he muttered, not wanting to take a glance back to his brothers, whom he knew were absolutely petrified. "When do we start?"

"Monday."


	9. Chapter 9

"Why the hell is they makin' us do this? It ain't like they's gonna teach us nothin', anyhow!" Jack sighed as his brother complained. He pulled a zip up hoodie up further up on the blond boy's shoulders. He made sure it covered the fading bruises around the kid's neck. Then he grabbed a small bottle of something and poured a little bit of the pale substance into his hand. It was the last of it. He rubbed it on the younger boy's face, right where the bruise was fading on his cheek. His little brother didn't even flinch. It was like they did this everyday.

"Relax, Race," Crutchie sighed from his position, sitting on the edge of the bed, "It'll be betta' than Snyder's version a' school," he commented, making Race roll his eyes as Jack made sure there were no especially bad bruises that could be seen on the boy's body. "At least they's will actually _try_ ta teach us somethin', stead a' gettin' drunk, beatin' us and tellin' everyone we's is homeschooled."

Race glared at the other boy. He adjusted his own sweatshirt as Jack turned back to the single dresser in the room and pulled on his own hoodie, making sure it covered his arms and then grabbing an old baseball cap and throwing it backwards on his head. "How's ya gonna hide that shiner, Jackie?" he asked, arms crossed over his chest, raising his eyebrows as he looked pointedly at Jack's, still bruised, left eye.

Jack scoffed turning to his brothers and slinging an arm around Race, leading him to the bed where their baby brother sat in his green, long sleeve shirt and well kept jeans that did not reveal any horrors of the boy's legs. "It's fadin'. No ones even gonna notice," he assured, noticing how the thought of someone seeing it made both his brothers nervous.

Race sat down at the head of the bed. He glared at his older brother but let silence pass for a minute before answering. "What if someone _does_ notice?" The question scared them all. It was not something they liked to think about.

Crutchie glanced back at his blue eyed brother before slowly laying his head down on the older boy's thigh. He let Race run a hand through his combed hair. He let the gesture calm him and he felt Jack reach out and pull his legs over his lap. The gimp let his oldest brother massage his bad knee. They did it automatically, like it was response to the question. A reaction that kept them all calm.

Jack slowly shook his head. "No ones gonna notice. It's all gonna be okay." The oldest of them looked at his two younger brothers. He could see it in their eyes. They were terrified. Though, neither of them would admit it.

"What if the older kids pick on me?" The question was so quiet. It was like the poor boy was afraid to ask it.

Race's eyes shot down to the younger, innocent green ones that were below him. They locked on each other. "If someone tries ta pick on you, they's gonna have ta go through me first," he stated, confidently.

Crutchie took in the tone of the older boy's voice. There was no humor in it, whatsoever. Race's features were stone cold and he was absolutely furious at the mere idea of that happening. The younger boy didn't comment on it. But the fact that his brother said that made him feel a lot safer.

Jack gave his gambling brother a look before sighing and reaching his hand to Crutchie's cheek. "'Ey, anyone tries ta get ta you, ignore 'em. They don't know what they's talkin' about." The seventeen year old smiled as the blond gimp did. He ruffled the boy's hair and felt better about everything when his brother giggled. Then he looked up at Race. The boy may be putting up a wall, but Jack could see what was behind it. "We's can do this," he assured, locking eyes with Race. "It'll be alright. Ya got it?"

Race didn't move. He glanced down at the ground. He wasn't so sure. One slip up... one more wrong move, and the only two people in the world that he needed could be ripped away from him like it didn't matter. And that thought terrified him. So he didn't respond. Instead, he helped his brother sit up as a knock was heard at the door. And they all took a deep breath before they grabbed their bags off the ground and headed for the outside world that may be the death of them.

Davey sighed. He glanced down at the boy to his right as they waited at the door. The kid had way too big of a smile on his young face for it to be before seven in the morning. He held onto the boy's hand as he was practically bouncing up and down, waiting for the boys in the apartment to open the door. He had on a nice, button down shirt and some new denim jeans, much like his own outfit. They both wore their backpacks over both their shoulders as they waited. Eventually, three boys appeared in the doorway.

They all looked miserable. Jack wore his backpack, slung over one shoulder and hanging off his back like a weight he did not want to be carrying. Race had a sort of satchel. It had a strap that sat on his right shoulder and crossed his chest, connecting to a bag that was sitting at his left hip. And Crutchie had backpack that sat lightly on his shoulders. Davey wanted to take it from the boy with the crutch and simply carry it for him. But he opted against it as the fourteen year old leaned on his crutch with a confident look on his face.

Jack froze as he saw the little boy clutching Davey's hand. The kid had such an innocence about him. It was practically radiating off of him. His smile widened as he saw the brothers and seemed so excited to see some new faces. Jack couldn't help but give the kid a smile. "Who's this?" He kneeled down in front of the boy as he asked the question.

"I'm Les! I'm ten!" he said with certainty. The boys behind Jack laughed at the kid's enthusiasm. Jack did too, but he didn't move away from the boy as he continued to speak. "...almost," he added, shyly. The boy in front of him chuckled and nodded.

"This is my little brother," Davey explained, tightening his hold on the boy's hand. "He really likes meetin' new people."

Jack chuckled. "I can tell." The seventeen year old smiled and introduced himself. "I'm Jack. Jack Kelly." He gestured behind him with his head, not taking his eyes off of the boy. "These are my brothas, Race and Crutchie."

The boys waved at the kid and the boy smiled at them, waving back with so much energy the boys weren't sure he was even human. Jack just laughed and spit in his hand, extending it to the boy. "It's nice ta meet ya Les."

Crutchie watched as Jack spit in his hand. He saw Davey cringe and glance down at his brother who mimicked the action. They shook hands and the tall boy spoke. "That's disgusting," he said, dryly. Crutchie couldn't help but laugh. He just rolled his eyes and watched as Jack stood to his feet.

"It's the price a' doin' business, Dave." Jack looked up to the other boy who shrugged at him. There was no expression on his face. Jack couldn't blame him. The sun hadn't even risen yet.

"What business are ya doin'?" the brunette asked, curiously, his grip on his little brothers hand not loosening a bit.

"Well," Jack started, crossing his arms over his chest. "If he's gonna be one a' my boys, he's gotta do the handshake."

Race smiled as the kid's grin widened. He wasn't sure he'd ever seen such excitement in his whole life. It was refreshing.

Davey rolled his eyes as his brother smiled up at him with pure joy. "I'm one of his boys, David!" he yelled, excitedly.

Davey laughed and shushed him. "Quiet! Ya wanna wake the whole buildin'?" he couldn't wipe the smile off of his face, though. The grin on his baby brother's features was just too contagious.

Jack giggled as the boy's excitement was made evident in the hall. But then he looked back to his brothers and motioned for them to follow him out the door. "Let's get a move on fellas." And then they were off.

The building was huge. There were so many kids all around it. Boys and girls. Most of them had their faces shoved down in a phone or any other type of device that distracted them from the real world. There were couples everywhere. Some were shouting at each other, others making out and even some awkwardly holding hands and pulling each other along into the large doors of the school entrance. There were other kids, laughing at certain people and fights being picked. He could see it all. It all made Jack nervous. More nervous than he'd already been.

Davey sighed as he looked over at his friends. The looks on their faces said it all as they stood just outside the entrance of the giant school. They were petrified. "I won't be that bad..." he tried to assure. Crutchie gave him a quick glance before staring back at the mass of teenagers. Jack shrugged off his fears, hiding it behind the wall his own brothers were still pounding on and Race didn't even bother tearing his gaze from the scene. So the tall boy sighed and looked down to his brother. "Why don't ya go on ahead ta school, Les. I'll see ya later!"

The young boy's smile fell just a bit, enough for Jack to notice. But he let his hand slid from his brother's anyway and quickly ran over to the three new boys he'd just met. "Have a great day!" And then he was off, running in the direction of the middle school, catching up with some other kids headed the same way.

Jack glanced at his brothers. Race had yet to say anything. That alone made Jack all the more worried. But he stepped in front of them anyway and put a hand on both their shoulders. "Hey, you's can do this, okay?" he nodded at both of them. They could. He knew they could. Crutchie gave him the smallest nod and Race only gave him a glare. "Just think," he continued, determined to cheer his brothers up somehow. "Less than a year and we'll be out in Santa Fe... Just like Mamma always wanted..."

Crutchie actually smiled at this. "Ridin' in style..." he chuckled as thought back to those days. Those days that would never leave his mind. Good or bad.

Jack grinned as his brother said this. "Yeah, Crutch. Ridin' in style. Just like she said." He gave his baby brother's shoulder a squeeze and pulled him into a one armed hug.

"Jack... I can't do it..." Race's voice was so quiet. It was like he was embarrassed of the statement he'd made. Jack sighed and let Crutchie go. He didn't even care that Davey stood by, awkwardly watching them. He placed both his hands on Race's shoulders and gave him a small shake.

"You're gonna make it, Race. You'll be okay." And something inside Race felt lighter. His brother's reassurance allowed him to take a deep breath before he gave a small nod as he readjusted his hoodie on his shoulders, ready to walk into the large building.

Jack smiled as his brother's fears seemed to lessen. Then he turned to the tall boy who stood next to Crutchie, draping an arm around Race as he did so. "So where're we goin' Dave?"

Davey smiled and nodded toward the building. "Let's go." So they went.

Crutchie didn't know how these kids had done this everyday for the past ten years. These freshmen kids all sat at desks, listening to people talk for hours on end. Nothing made sense. It all sounded like gibberish to him. The numbers on the board didn't make sense. He just didn't get how it worked. Turning one number into a different one was not relevant to him.

He sat in the middle of the class. His crutch was laying down at his feet, parallel with the desks he occupied. His good leg bounced up and down, anxiously. He didn't know if he could sit there for that long with nothing else to focus his mind on. He couldn't take out his book, he couldn't goof off with his friends and he couldn't see his brothers. So he opted to just pull down on he sleeves of his shirt, nervously, and duck his head down to the book, making it look, to the teacher, like he was actually trying to understand what the numbers meant.

He didn't look up as he heard the whispers. He knew they were about him. He may be a foster kid who'd never been to school in his life, but the boy was not an idiot. He knew people looked at him differently. He knew he was an easy target for a lot of things. And suddenly, he felt very vulnerable. His brothers were not around to protect him. He was on his own.

He tuned out everything. He didn't want to hear the snickers or the pitiful sighs. He didn't need them. He knew they meant nothing. He just closed his eyes and tried to take himself somewhere else. To anywhere but there. And just when it might've started working...

"Mr. Morris?" The boy's head shot up and he looked up at the teacher. She was looking at him like she was expecting an answer to something. The boy took a quick glance around. Everyone was staring at him. All he wanted to do was fold in on himself and turn invisible. But since that wasn't an option.

"Yes, Miss?" he replied, ignoring the giggles he got from other students. That's what Jack said. Ignore them.

The teacher gave him a look. "I'd appreciate it if you'd stay with the class from now on. Please pay attention. Now..." and then started the gibberish again. And Crutchie sat back and listened to it, letting it rush right over his head.

Race was about to burst. He wanted out so bad. He was trapped in a room with too many strangers and his brothers may as well be on another planet. He couldn't get to them. And he wanted so badly to get to them. Someone was reading. He didn't care. His eyes may be down in the book on the desk, but he didn't see anything these other kids did. The teacher was walking around, glancing over every kid. Race couldn't help but tense up as his breath hitched when the man walked past him. It was instinct. He couldn't stop it. Lucky for him, the teacher only gave him a curious glance before continuing on.

It was almost over. It had to be. He tapped against his leg. It had to be almost over. And suddenly, Race's instincts kicked up. The boy sitting behind him was staring at him. He knew it. He tried to push it aside, but something about it made him nervous. So he took a small risk. He glanced backwards at him, catching all his features in one glance.

The boy was only a bit shorter than him. He had thick, dark brown hair that was neatly styled on top of his head. His dark eyes shot through Race like a knife as he smirked at him. He was looking at him in a familiar way. A way that said he was excited for some... fresh meat. Oh Lord, it had to be almost over. And then, he felt the waded up piece of paper hit the back of his head. He jumped a bit as it touched him, not liking it when things would touch him without warning at random times. He ignored it. Just like Jack said. Just ignore it.

Race took a deep breath as the harassment continued. The boy was throwing little papers at him, hitting him on the back with his pencil when the teacher looked away and constantly whispering in his ear, "what's wrong, idiot?"

Race had had enough. He swore he was gonna bite the other boy's head off. And then he put the last straw on the camels back. "Get a load a' these kids," the one boy laughed to another student whom Race did not care to look around and see. "Three newbies in one day." Race shook his head. Jack had said to ignore them. _Ignore them_. Not listen to their every word. But the last words were spoken. And Race couldn't stop himself. "The stupid cripple is the first one goin' down."

Race was out of his seat in a second whirling around to the other boy, his fist in the air, ready to strike. He was seething as he stared daggers down at the smirking kid, but just as he might've let his fist fly, there was the sound of someone clearing their throat. Crap.

"Was the story too boring for you, Mr. Higgins?" The blond boy did not move. His face was furious and his fist did not fall from the air. Oh how badly he wanted to clock the boy right in the nose. And he could. Jack wasn't there to stop him. But he also knew that, if he was dragged down to the office, right then, on the first day, he wasn't gonna live for much longer. Not only would Jack chew him out, but Snyder's response might as well be deadly. And not even just for him. So he slowly unclenched his fist and brought it back down to his side. His eyes however, did not move from the boy who might be the death of him.

"No sir," Race grumbled out. He still did not turn away from the boy in front of him. The boy who just smirked at him.

"Then I suggest you sit down." And Race thanked God he wasn't about to be written up. He gave the bully one last, hard glare before he reluctantly sat back down. He turned his eyes back to the book and waited for the monotone voices to continue speaking, but they didn't. "Why don't you read a few paragraphs, Anthony?" And that was when Race went ghost white. He heard the room go completely silent. They could've heard a pin drop. He knew all eyes were on him. So his eyes darted around the page, trying to make sense of the letters. Trying to understand.

"U-uhm... I..." he stuttered, desperately trying to think of a way out of this situation. He felt his hands starting to shake and it seemed to warm, immensely, in the room. "I..." His heart was pounding so hard as he tried to do as he was told. Tried to just get through. And he was sure he'd been praying in that moment. He was sure it was God who sent his angels down and set the bell off.

The other kids didn't give him a second glance. Besides the bully, who "accidentally" bumped him on his way out. But Race didn't move. The teacher was still staring at him. He knew he was. So he didn't move. He didn't even look up from his desk. Just sat there with a blank look on his face as everyone filed out of the room, leaving him behind.

They sat in silence for a minute. The man leaned against a desk next to Race's, making it hard for the boy to just stand and leave. Just stand and leave and run right to the only people he could be around right then. But he was stuck under the gaze of the man and he shifted uncomfortably in his chair.

"Do I make you nervous, Mr. Higgins?" the man asked, curiously as he watched the boy squirm under his gaze. Race didn't reply. Just sat in silence, waiting for the man to tell him he could leave. But he didn't. He only sighed and crossed his arms.

"Am I in trouble?" Race asked, still not looking up from the book on the desk. He wasn't reading it. He just couldn't look up at the man.

The teacher sighed again and looked over the boy with curious eyes. Then he uncrossed his arms, kneeling down, below his new student. His arms rested on the desk and Race leaned back, trying to move himself out of the man's reach by simply leaning away. "I'm letting you off with a warning, Anthony. But you ever act up like that in my class again, I'm gonna have to write you up. You understand?" Race didn't give any sort of response. But the man continued anyways, trusting the boy got it. "One more thing, Mr. Higgins."

Race bit back a groan. There was more? He just wanted to get to his brothers. "Can you tell me what this says?" The man pointed to a big, bolded red word in the book that sat open in front of him.

Race laughed, bitterly. He looked up at the ceiling for a moment before glancing back down at the page. Then he shook his head when he realized the man was dead serious. He just scoffed and grabbed his bag, throwing it over his shoulder before hastily walking to the door. And the man didn't stop him. Only sadly shook his head as the boy left, keeping himself a mystery to the world.

Jack sighed in relief as the bell sounded. He wasn't sure how he'd made it that long in the class. As he stood to his feet, Davey walked up to him from across the room. "It's not so bad..." he tried, but Jack just glared at him as he slung his bag over one shoulder.

"When can I see 'em?" It was out of the boy's mouth so fast, and Davey felt his heart clenching. He realized right then and there, the longest these boys had been apart must've only been for a few minutes at a time on a regular basis. An hour felt like an eternity to them. So he clasped his friend's shoulder.

"Soon, Jackie," he promised, and the boy nodded.

Jack took in a deep breath. Soon. He could wait. Soon. They were doing fine. He knew they'd be okay.

Then he turned around and nearly smacked right into someone who was walking past him, trying to get out of the classroom. He heard some books hit the floor and a startled gasp and he immediately bent down to help grab the person's things. "I'm sorry..." he muttered out as he handed the person their things that he'd caused them to drop. And then he looked up and his eyes froze on what he saw.

Her light brown hair was perfectly pulled back, out of her face. It was pinned on both sides of her head to keep it up. Her bangs covered her forehead and framed her features well. Her perfect skin made her look like she was shining in his eyes as she moved to grab more of the things that had fallen from her hands. She wore a button down shirt that showed off her curves a little bit and a vest over that. The skinny jeans she wore also hugged her body just the right way. And then when she looked up... and their eyes met... Jack was sure he'd never seen anything more perfect in his life.

"Excuse me, Miss," he apologized, a flirty tone in his voice as he looked at the girl in front of him. "Didn't see ya there." he smiled at her as she gave him a little, pitiful one and she stood to her feet. As she nodded at him, about to walk out he stopped her.

"I's could carry some a' those book for ya..." he offered, completely forgetting that Davey was there at all.

She paused for a moment, giving him a curious glare, noticing the bruise that was almost gone right around his eye, before continuing on her way. "That's alright. I don't need another cheeky boy doing my work for me." And then she was gone. Just like she'd never even been there and Jack found himself staring in the direction that she'd walked off in.

Davey chuckled and shook his head. "Cmon," he laughed, "we can go find Race and Crutchie right now. We've got fifteen minutes till next class." Jack seemed to snap out of it at that, but Davey wasn't sure his last encounter had, or ever would, leave his mind.

And he was right.


	10. Chapter 10

The halls were a mess. People were running every which way with books and papers flying everywhere. There were the girls who were throwing themselves at every boy that walked by and the guys that would unsuccessfully say meaningless words to a beautiful blond and then get a smack to the face. There were those who looked like robots with blank faces and earbuds plugged into their ears, silencing the world around them. There were kids with their noses down in books, ramming into the people they had hoped to tune out and those who were too loud for the boy to handle. There were so many people and all Race could do was go back to the place that Davey told him to go between classes to see his brothers.

He saw the only three boys in the school he knew and ran up to them, dodging everyone else in his way. Jack looked to just be walking up to Crutchie, who was glancing at his schedule and switching some books in and out of his locker, placing them in his backpack. He could see the boy's hands shaking at all the shouting going on around them. And Race wished he could make it all go away.

"Race!" Jack greeted with a smile and a sparkle in those forest green eyes and before he could get another word out, Race crashed into him. He was still trembling, too, from the encounter he'd just had with a strange man he'd never met. "Whoa, kid, what's the matta'?"

Jack glanced over to Davey who just shrugged as he wrapped his little brother up in his arms. "Racer, you're shakin'... what happened?" He cupped the back of the boys neck and wrapped an arm around his back.

Crutchie shut his locker after putting his books in his back and turned to his brothers, not at all surprised to see how upset Race was. He knew his brother. He knew what class Race had just come from. He knew one thing about the teacher that would make the older boy extremely uncomfortable. He was a man. Davey gave him a confused look but Crutchie just shook his head, telling him to not do anything.

"Race, it couldn'ta been that bad," Jack tried. He rubbed the boy's back, though. He ignored the stares from the other kids that didn't get it. They didn't understand why the new kid was shaking, holding back tears. Jack did. But he wanted to hear what had happened that had pushed Race so far.

"He knows, Jack..." That was all the boy could manage.

Crutchie could hear the tightness of his brother's throat and he realized how badly he wanted to breakdown too. But he held it together right then. For his big brother who had no idea that he wanted to protect him too.

Jack sighed. "Who knows what?"

Race never got to answer as a voice rang out through the hallway. And all he could do was pull away from his brother as two boys strut down the school, annoying, cocky smirks on their faces. "Step aside!"

Davey groaned. He knew who was coming down the hall. And he didn't think these poor boys would be prepared for their abuses quite yet. But they didn't necessarily have a choice.

Race sniffled and watched as a familiar boy walked through the hall. Everyone moved out of his way. And another, bigger boy who looked just like him traveled behind him. And they spotted him. He saw his big brother step slightly in front of him, not liking the smirk on the younger boy's face as he came stomping towards the young gambler.

"This is him, Morris," the kid form class explained. "Almost gave me a black eye." Race scowled at him but kept his mouth shut, fearing that if his mouth started running, he wouldn't be able to stop it.

Before anything else was said, Crutchie limped over to his brothers, putting a hand on Race's shoulder. "The hell are ya talkin' about?"

"Woulda been more than a black eye..." Race muttered, making Jack put up his hand in an attempt to tell him to shut up.

The older of the two, Morris, stomped up to Jack, their eyes locked on each other and a fierce look took over both of their faces. "Step aside, newbie. That kid was pickin' on my brother. Ain't no one gets away with that."

Jack scoffed. This boy was about the same size as him. And he thought he could win in a fight against _him_? That was a laugh. "Just so happens we have somethin' in common," Jack crossed his arms over his chest. "No one messes with my kid brothas. So keep movin'." Their faces were inches apart, threatening each other with only the looks in their eyes.

Davey didn't know what to do. So he was reduced to standing, tensely, and watching the scene unfold. He thought about running to get the principal or maybe even a nearby teacher, but he didn't want Jack to get into trouble. He didn't know what kind of effect that would have on the small family that he'd quickly become friends with.

"What a lousy little bastard," the younger bully spat out, his dark eyes filled with an evil kind of laughter. "Can't even fight for himself," he laughed when Crutchie grew furious at his words but Race held him back when he made a move to do something about it. "Not that I'm surprised. The idiot can't even read." The boy only laughed at the horrified expression on the blond boy's face.

Jack growled and made a move to pounce on the boy that smirked at the kid behind him. But Davey stood in between them. "Oscar, stop it!" he demanded. "Let 'em have one day ta settle in," he asked, his hands up in defense as the boys glared at him.

Race felt Crutchie grip his arm as both his brothers now understood why he was so upset. He scowled at the other boy who was glaring at him with a smirk. "Ya won't always have big brother around to protect ya, Higgins." And with that final threat, they backed off, walking down the hallway and making themselves known throughout the school.

David sighed. He shook his head as they walked away, furious they hadn't been able to beat up on the new kids and get away with it, just like always. He turned back to his three friends. Race had a stone cold look on his face as Crutchie tried to talk to him, to get him to open up to them and Jack wrapped an arm around his brother's shoulder.

"Race... are you okay?" The older boy didn't respond to his baby brother's question. He just sniffled and leaned up against his locker, pulling out of Jack's embrace, not wanting to look up at Davey who had just been exposed to his deepest secret.

Crutchie looked over at Jack. The oldest of them could see the fear in his eyes. That was just like the boy too. He wouldn't tell Jack if he had a bad day either. He knew that. And all he wanted was to hold his brothers, take them to Medda, tell them it was all gonna be alright. It had to be alright. But he couldn't. He was stuck in that damn building.

Race glanced over at his oldest brother with such a look of helplessness and embarrassment. "I can't do this, Jack..."

Crutchie saw Jack open his mouth, but he had something to say first. "Yes you can, Race." Race's eyes shot over to him in attempt to protest. But Crutchie shook his head. "Race, you are one a' the strongest guys I know," he assured, flashing his optimistic smile, however small it may have been at the moment, right at the older boy who was trying to remember to breathe. "You can do anythin'. Even this."

Race glanced up at his brother with so much doubt in his eyes. He was terrified. He was embarrassed. And then Jack put a hand on his shoulder, giving it a small squeeze. "He's right, kid. You can do it. Just get through taday."

"Jack..." Race choked out and then stopped himself. He took a breath. He didn't like the way his own voice sounded. So he cleared his throat. "What'll happen if the _Spida_ find out?" He spat out the word, getting across to all the boys how much he hated that man.

Jack sighed. He slung an arm around the boy's shoulders again. "He ain't gonna find out," he swore. Davey looked over at him, confused. But Jack waved him off.

"Race, we can still teach ya-" Crutchie tried. He just wanted his brother to calm down. When his brothers weren't calm, he felt like he couldn't breathe. If the two people in the whole world that he looked up to for protection and comfort were in a panic, Crutchie was at a loss. But Race wasn't hearing it.

"No ya can't!" It came out as a whine. He let his head fall back and hit the lockers behind him. "We tried that! But-" Race cut himself off with an irritated grumble. He stomped his foot like a small child. He was angry, frustrated with himself for not being able to learn. "It don't look like nothin'. Sometimes it's all... jumbled up and I's can't see the words you guys see..."

Davey worked hard to keep his mouth from falling open in understanding. He watched as Jack placed his hands on both sides of the trembling boy's face. "It'll be okay. We'll figure it out," he assured but Race desperately tried blink away the tears in his eyes. He looked about ready to hit something in frustration.

"What kinda fifteen year old kid can't read?"

The words made Crutchie's heart break. The desperation in his big brother's voice made it almost impossible not to tear up.

Davey joined their circle, making his presence still known to the three boys that were all on the verge of something, weather it be tears, a breakdown or a lash out. Davey realized right then and there how stressful this situation must have been for them. For three boys who hadn't gone an hour without each other for years. Three boys who were terrified of making the smallest mistake. Three boys who didn't even know how teenagers let loose or had fun. Three boys that just wanted to protect each other from danger. And he put an arm around Crutchie's shoulders, comforting him and not missing the way Jack's eyes grew and them relaxed all in one moment.

A few seconds after that, the bell rang out through the hall and Davey could see the sheer look of desperation in Jack's eyes when Race's entire body slumped against the lockers. He felt Crutchie tense under his touch and he didn't know if it was because of a loud noise of the fear of being noticed by another nosy teacher.

Jack glanced at Race, ready to take the boy into his arms and tell him it was all gonna be alright. Tell him they'd make it through. But he knew showing affection in public couldn't be a regular thing in high school. He'd seen the looks of judgment and confusion the other kids gave him. He didn't like it. And he knew that they didn't like things they didn't understand. So he settled for a simple squeeze of the shoulder before his eyes wondered to his littlest brother.

Crutchie was shaking. His eyes were trained on the ground. He leaned heavily on his crutch and looked too focused on taking deep breaths. So Jack lightly pushed Race over towards Davey. "You two get goin'. We'll catch up."

Race glanced back at his brothers with a desperate expression. He didn't want to be alone with someone else, without Jack. But he saw how his older brother looked at their younger. So he sighed and walked as Davey started leading him to his next class. He decided, if Jack trusted Davey, so did he. So he went, knowing Crutchie wouldn't open up with him around. At least not after Crutchie knew he was scared too. So as he walked he took one final look back at the boy he would always protect and then let Davey lead him away.

Jack clipped his baby brother's chin, forcing him to look up at him. "Are you okay?"

Crutchie felt himself losing it. He felt his whole body shaking and he tightened his grip on his crutch. He leaned on it heavily before he took a shaky breath and answered. "N-no..." he voice broke, quietly as he tried to keep his volume where no one could hear it.

Jack felt his heart shattering. "Cmon, kid... you can do this..." he wiped away one stray tear that fell from the gimp boy's eye.

"It's so loud, Jack... and it sounds like-" Crutchie cut himself off. He let out a soft sob and couldn't have been more grateful to feel Jack's arms surround him. "And I can't see you or Race... and Race is scared and he can't be around the teachers and you's ain't there..." Crutchie rambled into his big brother's shoulder. "And I'm scared, Jack..."

Jack glanced around. The halls were basically empty now. They were new. They could be late and be given a break. And if they weren't, Jack was prepared to argue with them. He pressed a kiss to the boy's head, holding him close and allowing him to breathe in the quiet for a moment before he pulled away. "Hey... we will figure this out. I swear. Just get through taday, kid." He held his brother at arms length.

Crutchie sniffled and wiped at his face with the sleeve of his sweatshirt. He gave a short nod and looked around. "We's gonna be late..." he sighed out, annoyed.

Jack let out a breath. He pulled his brother to him one last time before they walked off, attempting to get to class before anyone called their guardian.

Someone was lecturing. Jack didn't even seem to care. The lights were off and the room was lit by the faint glow of the projector at the front of the room. His face was down in the thing in his hand that he absolutely treasured. He was sketching away, not even fully realizing what he was drawing. He was worried. Scared, even.

What if Snyder found out about Race? It couldn't end well for anyone. The poor kid was already embarrassed enough. He hated it more than anything in the world. And Crutchie, God, the kid was petrified. The lockers slamming, the bells screeching, the teachers yelling, it was too much. And they weren't together. How on earth was it supposed to be okay? How could they do this for the rest of the year if they could barely make it through the first day?

He let his pencil dance around the paper that had been blank only a few minutes before. For the first time, his eyes made out what he had been drawing during the class he should have been paying attention to. And his lips tugged upwards into the tiniest smile as he saw her. Her perfectly shaped eyes, the way her hair dangled around her soft face, the way her lips subtly hinted that she wanted so desperately to light up the world with her kind smile. She reminded him of someone. Someone he missed dearly. Running his hand over the page, he looked up.

She was sitting up in the front of the room, turned so he could see her. She looked up at him and gave him a small smirk before lightly waving a hand at him. He waved back, just a little, but his heart was dancing inside. How could he already be falling for a girl he'd only just met?

When he heard a gruff clearing of someone's throat, he looked up to the front of the room to find the teacher staring at him. He looked back down at his sketchbook. The teacher continued. And Jack continued to worry, happy he had gotten that one tiny moment of relief before he thought about the weight of the world on his shoulders again.

Jack watched the girl in the front of the room grab her things when the bell rang, at the same time, placing his own things in his bag, save for his sketchbook that he held to his chest with one arm, not showing anyone what he'd been drawing. She placed her notebook neatly in her bag so it rested up against her binder. Then she placed the straps of her backpack over both her shoulders before standing up and walking away from her desk. She looked to be in a hurry, as were most of the kids in there. And Jack knew why. That class was utterly boring. He wanted to run too. But he had to do something first.

The girl gasped as the new kid stood up fast and blocked her exit. "Hello again," he greeted with his charming smile that must have made all the girls swoon. He lightly leaned on the desk he'd been sitting on. She nodded to him and tried to walk around him, but he just jumped back in her way.

"Please go away, I'm trying to get to my next class." Her voice sent an odd feeling down in his chest and he felt butterflies in his stomach. He still didn't move.

"Twice in one day..." he remembered, thinking he'd never forget about the first time he'd seen this girl, knowing every time she came into view it would be like seeing her for the first time all over again. "Ya think it's fate?"

The girl rolled her eyes but her smile gave her away. She found him as charming as she expected every girl to. And he extended out his hand to her. "Jack. Jack Kelly."

"Is that what it says on your rap sheet?" The girl surprised herself with her words.

Jack laughed at the words, his eyebrows shooting up in shock before he spoke again. "You got a name?"

The girl looked up at him in surprise. Most might have taken that insult and left. But not this boy. He was intriguing. His kind green eyes and charming smile were only the beginning, she knew it. So she extended her arm and shook his outstretched hand. "Katherine Plumber," she stated, giving him a curious look, as if no one had ever cared enough to actually ask her name before.

Jack's grin widened and he held his sketchbook tightly to his chest with one arm. He'd never felt like this before. A sensation rose in him that he couldn't place and he found his mouth forming words without his consent. "Has anyone ever told you that you're beautiful?"

The blush that rose to Katherine's cheeks was priceless. The way she looked down to the ground to try to hide it was even better. But his favorite part was the smile that stayed on her face. It was the best view Jack had ever seen. And he realized he wanted to keep seeing it, though he figured he should let her past now. "Where is a smart, _independent_ ," he stressed, remembering her earlier words of not wanting to be helped, "lady, such as yourself, going next?"

She smiled up at him again. And now, Jack thought it might now be so bad in high school. "History. And you?"

He shoved his hand down in his pocket and pulled out his schedule, looking for wherever he was supposed to go next. "Room 632," he responded, realizing he really didn't know where he was going.

When she laughed, Jack's world light up and, for a single moment, his troubles were gone and everything was so much brighter. "Come with me, it's on the way." And they were off with a new hope in both of their eyes.

 


	11. Chapter 11

Katherine sat in her class silently. She sat up in her chair with one of her hands lazily tapping on the small wooden desk in front of her and the other, holding up her chin. There was a binder out on top of the uncomfortable, small table she sat at and a blank piece of lined paper on top of it. A pencil bounced up and down between her moving fingers as she stared blankly ahead, a smile still placed on her features from the encounter she's had a few minutes ago with a new, charming, mysterious, new boy. _Jack._

She found herself unable to focus on the lecture she was supposed to be listening to. The man in the front of the room was oblivious to the boys on their phones, snickering to each other about the latest girl they'd slept with. He didn't notice the guy that was asleep on his desk in the back of the classroom. He was ignoring the girl next to her, fixing her make up and hair. Why should he take any notice to her, sitting in a class and day dreaming about a boy she'd just met?

What she didn't expect, however, was for someone else to notice. "Bet you're glad you got out of that mess." Katherine looked over to see the girl fixing her hair and makeup speaking to her.

"What mess?" The beautiful girl wasn't too taken into the conversation with her classmate. But she was too polite to ignore her, no matter how badly she wanted to. Those polished nails and pristine hair always made her cringe. Why did kids try so hard to be models?

"That mess of a teenage boy that was practically throwing himself at you in the hall." The other girl wasn't even looking at her. She was too busy perfecting her face full of color that made her look inhuman.

Katherine's eyes widened in shock. She didn't think anyone would've noticed. She hoped no one did. Sadly, she was wrong. Someone had noticed. Someone she wished hadn't. That, however, wasn't what bothered her the most. She was irritated that this girl was judging this boy without even knowing his name. "Jack."

The other girl stopped and looked at her, dumbfounded. "What?"

"His name," Katherine clarified for her. "He has one, you know. Jack. Jack Kelly." The girl tried to force away the smile that creeped up on her when she thought about him telling her his name. She sighed before turning back to the teacher at the front of the room. But her neighbor wasn't quite finished yet.

"Oh my God, you're already crushing!" Katherine groaned. She had no desire to continue this conversation. It was clear to everyone but the girl next to her that she was getting irritated. "What's your father gonna say?"

Katherine didn't respond. That question had stunned her into silence. And the other girl smirked at her. She didn't turn to look but she could feel the smugness practically radiating off of her. "He wouldn't approve, Katherine. No one would," she stated in such a condescending tone, Katherine thought she might hit her. All she could do was remind herself to breathe. "That guy, whatever his name is, is nothing. He has no money and no reputation. Let him down easy. I'm sure someone so low class would understand."

The Plumber girl clenched her teeth together. This boy... _Jack_... he wasn't nobody. And damn it, she was going to find out who he was behind that charming smirk. She wanted to know him. And she suspected the same from him. And for the next hour, all she could think about were those mysterious green eyes. These kids may not see it, but she did. He had a story to tell. And she wanted to hear it.

"I hope you wanted a friend, Mr. Kelly..." she found herself muttering to no one. "Because now you've got one."

Jack thanked God when the bell rang. It was the last class of the day. He didn't think he'd ever waited longer for the end of a day in his life. He packed up his things and stood up, taking one quick glance around the room. All the desks were in perfect rows. The chairs left a constant space between each column. It was so perfectly organized. It made Jack a little nauseated. Nothing in his life had ever looked so pristine. He wasn't sure he wanted it that way. But for now, he supposed it was better than the disaster of a life he was living at home.

The classroom was clearing out. Jack slung his bag over his shoulder, ready to leave. Ready to go see his boys. But a hand caught his shoulder forcing him to turn around.

"Where do you think your going, newbie?" The voice was cruel and condescending. Something Jack had had quite enough of in his seventeen years of life. Those dark eyes glared daggers at him and Jack ripped himself from the grip, grumbling under his breath. But the other boy didn't like that. "Ya got something to say?"

Jack rolled his eyes and scoffed, turning and walking away, making it all the way into the hall. But the bully wasn't finished yet. "Don't walk away from me!" The other boy ran out behind him. Jack just kept going. But he wasn't ready for the threat that followed. "You can't be with your stupid brothers all the time! Someday they might run into some trouble."

At this, Jack stopped. He ground his teeth together before he turned to the boy. "Leave them alone, Morris."

The bully smirked. "Stay out of my way and maybe they'll be okay. But if that illiterate punk raises a hand at my brother or me ever again, I can't make you any promises."

Jack clenched his fists at his sides. He couldn't fight. Not there. Not then. Not after he'd made it through the day.

"Nobodies like you don't do too well around here," Morris continued. "So do yourself a favor and stay in line." And that was it. Then the bully turned and left, leaving Jack with a mind full of threats on the two people that held closest.

The halls were going silent. Teenagers were passing him by, laughing and arguing with each other, desperate for the fresh air outside of their daily prison. He was being shoved out of the way of oblivious other kids and he found the only thing he could do was move against the lockers, not sure where he was going. Only knowing that the spot he was at looked like the one he been at earlier, with his brothers. That was when he felt a tap on his shoulder.

Jack whirled around, startled by the sudden touch before he saw her. That soft brown hair, those deep, wonderful eyes, and those two, perfect lips that were barely curled up in a small smile. And, despite the conversation he'd just had, he felt himself smiling at the sight of this girl he didn't know.

Katherine jumped a little bit as the boy did. But once he turned to her, she felt her smile fall back into place. "Hi..." she found herself saying, awkwardly.

He flashed her an award winning smile. "Hi, Plumber." He placed his arm practically over the girl's head in a flirtatious manner, causing her to giggle a little bit. "What're ya, followin' me?" he teased.

She scoffed. "Don't flatter yourself, Mr. Kelly. You happen to be right next to my locker," Katherine stated, matter-of-factly.

Jack smirked and moved away, allowed her to twist her lock and open the thing up, revealing neatly stacked books and a container of pens and pencils on different shelves. Jack watched her place some things in her bag and then shut her locker, smiling at him as she turned to face him. "So... what's your story?"

Jack raised his eyebrows as he leaned his back against the lockers again, crossing his arms over his chest. "My story?" he repeated, curious as to what she meant.

"Yeah. Who are you, Jack Kelly?" she inquired, taking a step toward him, squinting her eyes up at him, awaiting his answer. He smiled his perfectly charming smile at her.

"Who says I got a story?" he shot back, playfully. He was smitten. And he couldn't stop himself. She was beautiful. Her eyes made his heart flutter and her smile made him feel like he was flying. He couldn't hide that feeling forever.

"Well, what kind of guy are you? You're not like others, I can tell you that." Katherine watched Jack smirk. He was about to answer when something behind the girl caught his attention. And his face fell, immediately.

"Right now, I'm a guy who only sees one of his brothas when he should see two." Jack pushed himself off of the wall with a sigh, walking around Katherine. The girl turned to watch him walk up to another boy. A boy with a crutch and a bag hanging over both of his shoulders. Katherine stood and watched the two interact, surprised at the scene.

"Where is he?" Jack asked his baby brother, hoping that the other was nearby. The younger boy limped up to him and shook his head.

"Davey's lookin' for him," Crutchie explained, quickly as he stopped in front of his big brother. "He was s'posed ta meet me outside my last class. I don't know where he is."

Jack sighed and wrapped an arm around the boy, assuring him it was okay. Crutchie leaned into the embrace as if he hadn't been in his brother's arms for days. "Cmon, kid. It okay..." Jack smiled. He knew the today hadn't been the greatest but if he could get his brothers to smile, he considered the day a win. So he grabbed the cap off of his own head and lovingly placed it over his brother's blond hair. When the boy smiled, so did Jack. So did Katherine.

Jack looked back up at the girl in front of him, still holding his brother close to his left side, feeling the metal crutch be clutched tightly underneath the younger boy's arm. And suddenly, he remembered he hadn't yet introduced his brother to this girl that he'd taken a strong liking to. "I'm sorry, Katherine," he quickly apologized with a smile. Then he gestured to the innocence contained inside one small boy. "This is my baby brother, Crutchie."

Katherine's heart melted. Such innocence had been lost to her. She hadn't seen it in a long time and that smile made her heart flutter in response. She grinned back at him and extended her hand. "It's nice to meet you, Crutchie." The young boy stopped for a moment as she reached for him, but, with a slight nod from Jack, he reached his hand out, letting go of his ever present crutch to shake her hand.

"Nice ta meet ya too..." Crutchie mumbled out, shyly. The boy watched Katherine's eyes light up when he spoke to her. He didn't know why she was so excited to be talking to him. The new gimp. He knew he didn't stand a chance here. But it made him feel better to know that at least someone was willing to give him a second glance.

"I found him!" A voice rang out through the almost empty hallway. And Jack could feel Crutchie's body be overcome with relief when a familiar groan met his ears.

Katherine glanced behind her new friend at the two boys making their way down to them. The taller of the two was dragging the other behind him. His hair was a mess and his brown eyes were blank as he was pushing all emotion to the side. But it was the other boy that caught Katherine's eye.

His curly blond hair was knotted and sticking up at odd angles. He was stumbling behind the boy, clearly older than him, tripping over his own feet as if he had no will to be up and walking. His hands were shoved in his pockets and a satchel dangled down by his hip as the other boy had him held gently yet forcefully by his arm. But what the girl took notice to the most were those blue eyes. Not only were they as mesmerizing as Jack's, but they told a story she couldn't quite clearly read. They were puffy and red all around and to anyone else in that God forsaken place they would look completely normal. But not to her. She could tell when someone had been crying. And, she quickly realized, so could Jack. And the last thing her eyes picked up on was the faded bruise, one that looked just like Jack's, peaking up from under, what looked to be, makeup.

"Racer, where the hell where you?" Jack's voice was gentle and quiet, as to not startle the boy walking up to them.

Before Race could even try to think up something. Something to get out of the conversation. A witty distraction or a passive comment, Davey was already speaking. And he could feel the eyes that landed on him as he tried to shrink in on himself, praying he'd disappear.

"I found him locked in one of the bathrooms near the cafeteria." Race looked solely down at the ground. He couldn't lift his gaze for anything. Not even when a safe arm wrapped around his shoulder.

"...Race?" His baby brother's voice couldn't even pull him out of his own head. He blinked back tears. He could clearly see four pairs of feet. Two of them were ones he knew. One of them was a new friend he was trying to warm up to. The last were two shoes he didn't recognize. Two brown boots that belonged to a woman. He couldn't break down. Not in front of a stranger.

"Racer, what happened?"

Race shrugged his arm out of Davey's grip but did not move away from his big brother's. His voice was broken and high pitched but somehow he managed to speak. "Can-... Can we just go, Kelly? Please?"

Jack glanced back at Katherine who gave him a sad smile. "I'll see you tomorrow, Mr. Kelly." And she began to back away, ignoring the look in Jack's eyes that gave away how badly he wanted her to stay.

"Same ta you, Plumber." And the girl turned and left, not fully grasping the situation she had just witness but knowing one thing; She wanted to make it better. Someday, somehow, she was gonna help these boys from the horrors they were suffering through. Little did she know, there was more than what was just on the surface.

Crutchie watched his older brother shake in Jack's arms. As Katherine walked away, he watched Race practically lose it. Davey tried to step towards the fifteen-year-old, but Jack shook his head at him. And Crutchie watched as Race turned to throw his arms around their older brother.

"Ya locked yourself in, didn't ya?" Jack sighed and glanced over at Davey who just shrugged. Race didn't respond, so David did.

"He wouldn't open the door. I had to get keys from the janitor." Jack wrapped his arms around the smaller boy. "He was sittin' in the corner... shakin'..."

"Race, what the hell were you thinkin'?" Crutchie's hadn't known his voice could be so intensely quiet. But Race peered up at him, from Jack's embrace.

"Sh-she wouldn't... leave me 'lone..." Race saw how scared his brother was. Damn it, he needed to pull it together. He turned his face back into Jack's shirt, trying desperately to hide the tears. But he felt his baby brother's shaky hands on his back. And it only made Race want to cry harder. "I had ta get away, Jack... she kept touchin' me... I didn't like it... i-it was like..."

Jack's eyes widened as he thought Race would actually say something. Something that Jack so desperately just wished he would say. Something about his last he would never speak of. But he didn't. He shook his head and pressed himself into Jack's chest.

Crutchie felt the tears well up in his eyes. Seven hours and they were already broken by the place so many teenagers called hell. Crutchie looked over to Davey who shrugged. "Who was his last teacher?" the older boy asked. And Jack gently pulled away from his brother, giving Crutchie a sad look as he noticed him crying too.

Davey watched Jack wipe away Race's tears and the younger boy sniffled, straightening up, trying to succumb to his confident, standoffish stature that the tall boy had seen for a split second with the other boys at the theatre. But Davey could see the act wasn't quite landing. He watched Jack give the boy a small smile as he gently took the small schedule from Race's sweatshirt pocket, quickly reading off a name. "Roland." And Davey's eyes widened in understanding. Jack noticed. "We got a problem here, Dave?"

Crutchie looked at the taller boy with worried eyes. "What the hell, Davey? Who is it?"

Davey sighed and looked around fast before he took another step to the brothers. He noticed the way Race shied away from him. He saw all their worried faces. "Roland has been known to..." How was he supposed to explain it? How was he supposed to review the rumor that hadn't yet even been spoken about to the school? "She's been known to get _close_ to her students." That was all Davey was able to mumble out. The topic clearly made all of them a little bit uncomfortable. And Race let out a shaky breath before he sniffled.

"Sh... she was touchin' my hair... and sh-she was rubbin' my shoulders... I don't like her... I had ta get away." Race tried to contain himself before speaking again. "'N kids won't l-leave me alone, neitha'... they's all laughin' and shoutin' and teachers 're bangin' on desks and... I don't like it here, Jack..." Jack sighed when his brother tried to explain it. It wasn't necessary. The boy had been through enough in his life. They all had. They didn't need this.

"It's okay, Racer... you're gonna be fine." Jack saw Race's eyes flash a familiar anger, taught to him by someone Jack wished they could be rid of. Then the kid was back to feeling helpless and he stomped his foot to the ground. So Jack let Crutchie embrace him. And Race couldn't do anything but hug the smaller boy back, burying his face in his baby brother's shoulder as the younger boy grasped onto his shirt, trying to stop his own tears.

"Can we just get outta here?" It was a simple enough request. So Jack glanced to Davey who smiled to them.

"Yeah. Let's get outta here."

Jack sighed as they looked up at the apartment building. He didn't like it. The ground was good. He liked it down there. His brothers were down there. For a single moment, everything was okay. The sun was setting in the distance and the sky was a beautiful orange color. It made Jack's heart long for a place that they could go. A place where they would be safe from any danger. A place they'd wanted to be for so long it hurt.

"Can't we just go ta Medda's, Jack?" Jack glanced back at his gimp brother when the boy asked. He saw the hope and desperation in his eyes green eyes. He wish so badly that the answer could be yes. But he shook his head.

"Ya know how mad the Spider'll be." Jack's voice was barely a whisper as he gazed back up. He hated the view. Most would find it beautiful. But Jack could see through that. He saw the evil at the top of the building. It was waiting to swallow them whole. And the only thing he could do was lead his brothers right towards it, in fears of it growing darker by the second.

Jack glanced over at his other brother. Race was standing next to Crutchie, his hands shoved in his pockets as he looked up at the cruel apartment too. The blue eyed boy caught his gaze and they made a silent agreement. The same one they'd made everyday for four years... for forever.

They made it to the top of the fire escape. Jack quietly slipped the window open and stepped in. Glancing around, he saw nothing out of the ordinary. The main room was almost empty. There was a beer on the table, half finished, and the room smelled of smoke and alcohol. But Jack knew that the room couldn't be empty for much longer. So he helped his brothers in too.

Crutchie let his older brothers pull him into the room. Race held his crutch as Jack practically scooped him up and carried him through the window. And once he was back on the ground, he grabbed his crutch back as fast as he could, letting his blue eyed brother slip in as well.

They were in the dreaded apartment for all of a minute to get the window shut before a gruff voice was heard and all three heads turned to face him like their lives depended on it.

"You were supposed to lay low." That was it. That was how he started. The low, angry growl. And then Jack stepped in front of his brothers, making sure to defend them with everything he had.

"What the hell are ya talkin' about, Snyder?" Jack was a ticking time bomb. His emotions had been bottled up all day on account of the shaking boys in his arms and the girl he couldn't get off of his mind. In that moment, everything was coming back to him. He had lead his brothers into the unknown, terrified of what might be discovered about them. He'd held them in his arms when they were scared and the old man didn't even care that they were hanging on by a thread. Seven hours away from each other with teachers leaning over their shoulders at every moment trying to get out their every secret. Seven hours of bullies trying to expose them as cowards and misfits. Seven hours of the deafening bells and orders and other kids only to come home to a man who wanted nothing more than a paycheck. Only to come home to a man with stress and frustrations and two clenched fists.

The man stepped up to him. His dark eyes were furious and nostrils flared with irritation. Jack saw that his tie had been removed from the rest of his ensemble. The suit he was wearing was unbuttoned and it truly looked as though the man didn't care about how he looked. And then Jack quickly realized the worse part of everything. The man wasn't even close to drunk.

"I just got a very interesting phone call." Snyder's eyes were pointed behind Jack to the boy whom they all knew was the least favored of their small family. And Jack didn't have to turn around to see Race's gaze shoot down to the floor in a panic as he tried to figure out what he'd done wrong now. "A Mr. Kloppman." Jack didn't move as the man took another step forward. "Raising a fist at a classmate and then..." The hated man actually laughed before he spoke again. "And then not being able to read?"

Jack bit his cheek. He held back his growl and tried to stop his hands from balling up in fists.

"No wonder no one wants you, _boy._ " The word held so much venom. So much hatred. "Who would want a fifteen year old kid who doesn't know the simplest things?"

Race felt the tears welling up in his eyes. He felt the blood rush up to his face as he became beat red, embarrassed at the words flowing from the man's mouth. He clutched onto the strap that crossed his chest and connected to his bag.

"It ain't his fault, Mr. Snyda'. He's tried-" Crutchie's voice was so small and terrified. It shook with every word he spoke as he stepped closer to his brother.

"Shut up, crip!" The boy jumped at the sudden outburst. And he stepped closer to Race. Their arms were touching, but neither of them dare moved after that. They just stood behind Jack, unsure of what was to follow.

"Out of all the kids in the world, why did I end up with such idiots?" Snyder shook his head in disappointment. Then he pointed to Race. "You'll never be more than a stupid bastard." The boy's head fell with more shame in every word. "You can't do anything right, you worthless piece of-"

"Shut up." Race gasped quietly and his gaze shot over to his big brother.

"Jack-"

"No, Race. Ya ain't stupid. None a' that's true." Jack straightened up to his full height, challenging the man eye to eye with just the look on his face. "You're the one who made us go ta that place. This ain't their fault!"

The smack echoed throughout the room. The two younger brothers held their breath when the noise sounded. Neither of them had it in themselves to look up from the floor when their protector gasped in pain. All they could do was wait for the yelling to continue, assuming that slap would be Jack's one warning. Assuming that Jack would take it. But he didn't.

A scream ripped from Jack's throat as he stomped up to Snyder. He shoved the old man back. And he followed through with a swift punch to the chest. It took the boy a moment to realize what he'd done. And as he he did, his anger started to melt away and began to transform into mere panic instead. He took a step back, breathing hard.

Race looked up at his brother. When he saw Jack in the beginning stages of fright, he grabbed his little brother, who was tensing up and watching their guardian recover from the blows and grow angrier. "No... please..." The boy was about to launch himself into that fight. And Race stopped him just before he could.

Crutchie gasped when two strong arms wrapped around his frame. His crutch fell from under his arm and clattered to the ground as he was lifted off of the floor. "Put me down!"

Race ignored the boy. His brother fought against his hold and kicked his legs, trying to get to Jack as the screams started. Race held back his own sobs as he heard the oldest of them screaming for the man to stop. He dragged Crutchie to the back room.

"Race! Stop!" Crutchie didn't even know he was crying as Race gently dropped him down onto the bed. "Jack! He's hurting him!"

Race was beginning to get frantic. He heard the screams too. But he had to protect Crutchie. No matter what... he had to protect his baby brother. So when Crutchie tried to stand up screaming and crying out for Snyder to stop, for Jack to be alright, he pushed him back down onto the bed and placed his hands on either side of the gimp's face. "Hey, hey, hey, Crutch. I need you to calm down, alright?"

"He's hurt and he's screamin' and I don't like it, Race..." Crutchie was mumbling so fast. Some of it was nonsense. The boy was shaking. And Race tried to wipe away his tears only for more to come rushing in.

"Breathe, Crutchie..." Race tried to block out those horrific noises from the other room. The sound of harsh hits and pained cries. He held back a scream whenever the other boy couldn't.

Crutchie was still fighting against his big brother. Jack was crying. They could hear him sobbing. Crutchie didn't know how long it had been since he'd heard his oldest brother cry. But the hits seemed to have stopped. They could hear a low, condescending voice. It didn't take much to place who it belonged to. And Crutchie continued to shake and cry as Race's arms encircled him, bringing him into a safe hold. He felt Race playing with his hair and cradling his head to his chest but something about it felt wrong.

Race held his brother close and let the younger boy squeeze his eyes shut tight as they waited in silence for whatever was to come next. That was when the tears fell from his eyes. That was when he couldn't keep it together any longer.

Jack's vision was blurred. He was breathing hard. His whole body hurt bad. He was curled up in a ball on the ground beneath the couch, trying to shield himself from further harm. His hands were clutched together at his chest and his eyes were closed tight.

"Pathetic. How do you think you can take care of two kids when you can't even defend yourself?" Jack let in shaky breaths, trying to calm himself down. He could feel the tear tracks that stuck to his face. He knew that he was letting out an occasional sob or whimper. But he was glad his brothers weren't getting hit. He was glad it was him. "How dare you come at me like that, _boy?_ " Jack didn't respond to a word the man said. He only tried to remind himself to breathe. "Do you have any idea what I could do?"

The silence that passed was long and awkward. It made Jack all the more uncomfortable. He made the mistake of opening his eyes and he could see the old man scowling at him. Jack tried to shrink in on himself more when Snyder crouched down next to him. He tried to swat away the hand that rested in his hair only to have his wrist grabbed. "I think you need to be taught a proper lesson, you little bastard." And Jack's eyes widened.

The two boys in the back room held onto each other for dear life. Race could feel Crutchie sobbing against him and he hoped the boy couldn't feel the same. He closed his eyes praying that Jack was alright. He wished it would all just end.

That's when Race heard a loud crack. And then he heard the inevitable cry that followed. "Oh my God..."

Crutchie's green orbs shot open at the sounds coming from the main room. He tried to push through Race but the older boy held him still. "Race, he has the whip!" he screamed, as if the his brother didn't know.

Race squeezed his eyes shut, praying for it all to just go away. He knew it. He _knew_ Snyder had the whip. But there was nothing either of them could do to stop it now. So he just held onto Crutchie tighter, resting his chin in the boy's hair and whispering a small prayer. It was something he hadn't done in a long time.

Jack's arms were above his head, bound together with duck tape at his wrists. He was on his stomach on the ground. He couldn't shield himself from the lashing on account of his hands being wrapped around the leg of a desk in the corner. Snyder made sure, even after his far too intense beating, that he couldn't move. He could feel his ribs throbbing. He couldn't be sure they weren't broken. And his head was killing him. His tongue was steadily bleeding from where he'd bitten it. The red substance dripped from his lips and his nose. He was sure he'd be choking on it if he were on his back. He could hardly breathe. The air had been knocked out of him. But Snyder wasn't done yet.

The whip cracked again and Snyder let the boy scream. "You brought this on yourself! Take it like a man!"

Race heard it again. The loud snap of the rope and the anguish that followed. He couldn't hold in a sob as he held the struggling boy in his arms tighter. His heart hurt. He felt his legs shaking as he knew he'd be unable to keep himself from doing what he did next.

"Don't move, Crutchie." He pulled away. He didn't want to. But this was worse than anything they'd been through in a long time. And he couldn't let it continue. He took a step back from the boy and made a move to the door.

"But Race-"

"I mean it, Chris!" Race didn't like raising his voice. Especially not at his younger brother who had no desire to be around loud noises. But if he hadn't done it, he wasn't sure the defiant, innocent boy would do as he'd asked. "Don't. Move."

Crutchie jumped at the use of that name. He jumped at the use of that voice. He hadn't heard either in a long time. But he didn't say anything. All he could do was do as he was told. That is... until Race slowly moved to the door, quietly sneaking out of it. And then Crutchie couldn't stay. He couldn't just sit and wait. So he stood on one unsteady leg and braced himself against the wall, making it to the door and sliding down the wall right next to it, peering out into the room he was rarely ever allowed to be in.

"Stop! Please!" Race clenched his jaw and snuck his way through the main room. He ignored the heart wrenching cries and hid himself from the view of a certain spider by crouching in front of the couch, knowing no one could see him there. His eyes were trained on the kitchen. If he could get there it would all be fine.

Crutchie watched from the small crack in the door. One of his green eyes peered through, allowing him to see Race, clearly. But he couldn't see Jack. Only his legs and the way Snyder stood above him. He could see the man's hand raised over his head and he could see the long, black, stick he held as he brought it down again and again onto his brother's back.

The boy watched as Race practically crawled into the kitchen and opened up a drawer. And Crutchie's eyes widened as he had realized what his brother was after even before the small metal thing was in his hand.

Jack screamed. It happened again and again and he cried. He closed his eyes, letting his mind try and wander to better days. Days of his childhood that were no where near golden. But Jack could say with confidence that it was better than this. So much better than this. And one more scream erupted from his throat before he heard the sound of something colliding and then a body falling to the floor.

Somehow, Jack mustered up the strength to open his eyes. But he didn't even need to do that to hear harsh breathing that wasn't his own. And he didn't need to do that to hear something metal drop to the ground. And he didn't need to do that to feel a shaky hand take comfort in his soft hair. But he needed to do that to see those blue eyes. They were terrified. But before Jack could say a word, his vision became dark around the edges and his breaths were too fast for him to be breathing healthily. With a mutter of a language Jack invented in that moment, the seventeen year old promptly let his eyes fall shut, unable to prevent the younger boy's terror, like he knew he should have, before he lost all consciousness.

Davey sat against on his bed, his back against the wall. He was being eaten alive by the silence in his own apartment. He felt himself letting tears grace his cheeks, not sure exactly what they were for, only knowing that there had been screams.

_"Ta survive in this side of Manhattan, mindin' your own business is key."_

The boy hadn't known exactly how hard that would be. But all he could do was respect the words and close his eyes, drawing his knees up to his chest and hugging his pillow close to him.

"I'm so sorry, Jack..."

**Author's Note:**

> As always, thanks for reading! Make sure to tell me what you liked, what you didn’t, what you’d change or what you’d improve by leaving me a review! Love ya, friends!


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